And then he forced his mind away from that train of thought. There had to be a way to get there on time. Something in the back of his mind told him that there _was_ a way. He had to think. Really think. * * * * * On 7 June 2287, a signal officer on the Earth destroyer _Muldoon_ picked up a faint signal coming from the general direction of the constellation of Sagittarius. It was the standard emergency signal for distress. The broadcaster only had a very short range, so the source couldn't be too far away. He made his report to the ship's captain. "We're within easy range of her, sir," he finished. "Shall we pick her up?" "Might be a Rat trick," said the captain. "But we'll have to take the chance. Beam a call to Earth, and let's go out there dead slow. If the detectors show anything funny, we turn tail and run. We're in no position to fight a Rat ship." "You think this might be a Rat trap, sir?" The captain grinned. "If you are referring to the _Muldoon_ as a rat trap, Mr. Blake, you're both disrespectful and correct. That's why we're going to run if we see anything funny. This ship is already obsolete by our standards; you can imagine what it is by theirs." He paused. "Get that call in to Earth. Tell 'em this ship is using a distress signal that was obsolete six months ago. And tell 'em we're going out." "Yes, sir," said the signal officer. It wasn't a trap. As the _Muldoon_ approached the source of the signal, their detectors picked up the ship itself. It was a standard lifeboat from a battleship of the _Shannon_ class. "You don't suppose that's from the _Shane_, do you?" the captain said softly as he looked at the plate. "She's the only ship of that class that's missing. But if that's a _Shane_ lifeboat, what took her so long to get here?" "She's cut her engines, sir!" said the observer. "She evidently knows we're coming." "All right. Pull her in as soon as we're close enough. Put her in Number Two lifeboat rack; it's empty." * * * * * When the door of the lifeboat opened, the captain of the _Muldoon_ was waiting outside the lifeboat rack. He didn't know exactly what he had expected to see, but it somehow seemed fitting that a lean, bearded man in a badly worn uniform and a haggard look about him should step out. The specter saluted. "Lieutenant Alfred Pendray, of the _Shane_," he said, in a voice that had almost no strength. He held up a pouch. "Microfilm," he said. "Must get to Earth immediately. No delay. Hurry." "Catch him!" the captain shouted. "He's falling!" But one of the men nearby had already caught him. In the sick bay, Pendray came to again. The captain's questioning gradually got the story out of Pendray. "... So I didn't know what to do then," he said, his voice a breathy whisper. "I knew I had to get that stuff home. Somehow." "Go on," said the captain, frowning.