Saxon shook his head groggily, pushed himself to his hands and knees and found himself floating six feet in the air. He had forgotten that the jet drive was still off. It came back with a suddenness that flung Saxon to the metal deck. He scrambled to his feet, his mind in a whirl. Forgotten temporarily were the emergency orders commanding them to return to Earth. If Villainowski had been right, then Saxon had actually relived an event which had transpired before he was eleven. Then who the hell was he? He returned to the control room, stepping over the unconscious body of Murdock, who had not yet recovered from the effects of the time field. The dial on the control board read 1.3 parsecs! He jumped for the scanner, clamped his eye to the aperture, and immediately jumped back! Dead ahead was a huge blazing sun! It looked so close that the _Shooting Star_ appeared to be falling straight into the maw of erupting atomic energy. But reason returned, and he knew they must still be millions of miles away. He went back to the scanner, spotting first a second sun not so close, then a third, small and red like a fiery coin. The ternary system of Alpha Centauri! They were out of the Solar System! "Please," said a girl's voice behind him. "Stand back from the scanner! Don't try for your gun, Saxon, or I will be forced to shoot!" Saxon whirled around. Ileth Urban stood in the doorway, a dart gun leveled at his stomach. Behind her, he saw the shame-faced Murdock surrounded by the crew. Murdock was helpless, his arms in the air. "The crew have mutinied," said Ileth. "The ship is now under the control of General Atomic." Saxon's jaw sagged. He said, "So you are Q62." It wasn't so much a question as a statement. He knew. He could read it in her thoughts. But why hadn't he been able to see it there before? It wasn't possible, but there could be no doubt. Ileth Urban was Q62. Then the thoughts of the men in the corridor made themselves felt. Every man jack of them had gone over to General Atomic, not recently, but weeks and months ago, before they had ever left Earth. He dropped into a chair, his head in his hands. How had they been able to disguise their thoughts all this time? He looked at Ileth in her chartreuse green short-waisted jacket. She held the dart gun leveled at his chest. Her patrician features were set in grim unhappy lines. "Something!" Saxon thought wildly, "Something has gone terribly wrong!" VI The T.I.S. agent, his bony fingers locked beneath his head, was stretched face up on his bunk. There were five of them in the ship's brig--Saxon, Murdock and Villainowski, Mercedes, the anthropologist and Brand, the bio-chemist. "Jon, that girl's crazy about you." "What?" Jon Saxon swung up his head, regarded Murdock coldly. Without moving, the T.I.S. agent repeated, "She's in love with you, Jon. Though what Ileth can find to love in that ugly granite mug of yours is beyond comprehension."