But these Earthmen! Such a lax, sloppy, inefficient society! They needed more regimentation, more precision. They needed to learn to obey orders. And they _would_ learn--after the Valdorian victory. "Evening, Mr. Mitchell." "Good evening, Captain. Nice night, isn't it?" Torlyn Khy looked around warily and saw the lean, spare figure of John Mitchell standing some distance away. He was talking to a man in a military uniform, one of the guards posted on the project. The Valdorian ducked away; he didn't care to be seen. Not tonight, of all nights. He walked all around the spaceship, studying it carefully from all angles, keeping well out of sight of the guards that surrounded it. The ship appeared to be ready to go; all he had to do was get inside and take off. Simple. Very simple, Torlyn Khy thought. The greatest victories are always simple. The ship was supposed to be lifted above the atmosphere on her jets before the hyperkinetic generator was used, but the generator could, in an emergency, be used on the ground. Torlyn Khy smiled. As far as he was concerned, this _would_ be an emergency. The Earthmen, he thought pleasantly, would feel very foolish when their greatest ship simply vanished from under their noses. After making a thorough reconnaissance of the area, the Valdorian decided he was ready. He switched on the tiny power pack at his waist, and the invisibility belt he was wearing was energized. If anyone had been watching the shadows where Torlyn Khy was standing, they would have seen a faint blue glow as the Valdorian faded slowly from sight. Then, boldly, the alien strode toward the _Skyjumper_. Nothing stood in the way of success now. * * * * * He walked directly across the well-lighted safety area, and the guards paid not the slightest attention. At the airlock door, he paused to take stock of the situation. He had to move fast now. The success of the whole mission depended on timing from here on out. The guards, naturally, would see the airlock door swing open; they would know something was wrong. It would take them, he estimated, about four minutes to bring up heavy armament to blast the door open. Moistening his lips nervously, he decided to correct the estimate. _Better make it three minutes for safety's sake_, he thought. In that time, he would have to warm up the generator and punch the co-ordinates for the planet Valdor into the big guiding computer. Doing that would require, say, two minutes--giving him a minute's leeway. Good! He waited until the guards all seemed to be looking away from the airlock door. Then he pressed the lock. The door swung open, and Torlyn Khy stepped quickly inside. There was a shout from one of the guards below, but they were too late to do anything; the Valdorian had the airlock door closed before they could see what had happened. He turned the master switch on the inside of the door, which locked the door against any outside interference.