"Warning of what?" Wilding demanded wryly. "Aren't you out of bounds? What right have you to interfere with our course or speed?" The officer went white. "My orders are to stop you at all costs," he said. "If you surrender, and the hostages are unharmed, you will all be returned to prison without further punishment." Wilding stared at the policemen insolently. "Not so fast," he protested. "Since when are people sent off to prison without even a trial? And for a trial, you must prefer some kind of charge. What is the charge against us?" The officer's face went from white to red. "Jailbreak will do for the first charge," he stormed angrily. "After that, we'll see. You're all known criminals, or you'd never have been in Alcatraz." Wilding laughed suddenly. "You're not making sense. You can charge us with jailbreak, even arrest us. But you can't make your charge stick in court. If we were in Alcatraz, you know there are no records in existence of criminal charges against us, so you have no right to say that we're known criminals. We can sue you for saying so publicly. As for the jailbreak charge, you may have a few witnesses among the convicts still on Alcatraz. But you know how unreliable such witnesses are in court. Any good lawyer can break down an eyewitness identification--" The patrol officer licked his lips, his eyes took on a hard, metallic sheen. "We'll let the lawyers argue about it. Over your corpses if you try to evade arrest. I have my orders to stop you and take you back, alive if possible, dead if necessary. You have taken hostages, so a kidnapping charge will hold. If they are killed, the charge will be murder. Suit yourself about details." One after another, armed patrol cruisers moved in to take up positions in the formation ringed about the doomed _Starship I_. On every side, batteries of atomic cannon covered every possible route of escape. "What are you going to do?" asked Tiny, her voice hopeless. An expression of sour triumph crossed the face of the man on the screen. "You have five minutes to decide," he told them. "By then, if you haven't surrendered and let a prize crew come aboard, we have orders to blow you out of space." He stopped talking and his image vanished back into the writhing colors. "Show them the hostages," suggested Tichron viciously. "Then tell them to keep their distance or you'll blow up our atomic fuel. They're bluffing." "I don't think so," Grouth contended. "We could find out by threatening to kill the hostages, one by one." Wilding glanced round the circle of faces. All were pale, set into lines of strain and bitterness. "No," said Wilding. "The decision is mine, and I've made it. We won't have unnecessary killing. You can't found a new world on other people's corpses. If it were to cost even one innocent life, I wouldn't want that responsibility. We'll have to surrender and start planning all over again...." "Shall I set the surrender signal?" Grouth asked.