Having finished the recording, he put it into a small projectile with an automatic timer to release and send the message in three hours. Then he lifted off the small asteroid and headed toward Ceres. A few minutes after liftoff, he fired the projectile. When it sent its message, Steve Cliff would be far away and no one could trace the message back to his ship. On top of that, the message was encrypted and designed to travel on the microwaves similar to those in the background of space. It was highly unlikely that this message would make anyone curious. After the message had been sent, the projectile would break down into its component parts and scatter them into the infinity of space. * * * * * The ships had stopped accelerating and the prisoners could talk easily. “You don’t seem too upset, George,” suggested Mark. “Naw,” said George. “’Course I’m sorry to lose my stuff back there, and I’m sorry for the men, but most of our stuff is somewhere else. This was a temporary base and the mine wasn’t producing too well anyway. Hardly worth our time. Besides, I’ve learned to be content just about wherever I am. I’ve been around the asteroids a lot and I’ve learned to depend on a Resource outside myself whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be brought low, and I know what it is to have plenty. I’ve been thoroughly initiated into the human lot with all its ups and downs--fullness and hunger, plenty and want. Makes little difference to me. Wherever I am, whatever happens, I’m confident. And I’m a man of prayer.” “I’m sure sorry about your friend Montezuma,” said Zip sympathetically. “What do you mean?” “Why, these ships must be the same five that attacked him. They couldn’t have found you without getting the information from Vly. So it’s a good guess that they destroyed his base the way they did yours.” “Nothing of the sort!” said St. George heatedly. “I told you that those ships were defeated and their crew sent back to wherever they came from with their tail between their legs!” “But this story about the ‘greegles’--” contributed Joe. “The greegles sliced _those_ ships up like salami!” insisted St. George. “These ships we’re on are a different lot! And besides, Monty would _never_ have told anybody how to find me--not by force or threat, anyway!” “We’re sorry, George,” apologized Zip. “I didn’t mean to upset you or cast any doubt on Montezuma Vly. You’re right--he’s not the type to give in to any threat. I must be mistaken.” “You’re forgiven,” said St. George. He went off to see how his men were doing. “Zip!” whispered Joe urgently. “You don’t really believe that story about the ‘greegles.’ These _have_ to be the same ships!” “I think it’s more important not to upset George. We don’t know the whole story.” “But _greegles_!”