"That means the top men of the Federation. No one else could act against the Cartel." "So, we must have a carrier." Lor smiled thinly. "Even one of Krobis', perhaps...." Boone's blood quickened. "Yes. It might be. His base camp's near." "Then--why are we waiting?" Wordless again, they left the rise; and now there was new, silent tension in them--tension born of looming dangers yet to come ... of the very world-shaking import of their task. Yet other factors, even more, churned Boone to turmoil. Could he believe the man called Lor--the incredible tale he'd told, the things he'd said? Or, even assuming belief, could he yet trust the other? What proof did he have of the real effects of the mutation, or of the Helgae's motives? True, they'd not harmed either him or Eileen. But might not that be a mere trick to lull suspicion? Perhaps Lor himself did not even know the facts. It could be that he was only a pawn--a being created as part of some dark plan to bring the whole human race down in disaster. As for Eileen--Boone frowned and pondered. She was changed, somehow, from the girl he'd known. It was as if her basic drive, her fierce ambition, all at once had vanished. Now she was woman. Woman only. Questions, questions. Seething, they loomed ever-larger, till at last they were more than his aching brain could cope with. Of a sudden it came to him that sometime, somewhere, there must be an end to thinking, indecision. For him, that moment had already come. From here on, if he were not to find himself forever immobilized by doubt, there could be no choice for him but action. So, he would act. * * * * * They topped another rise as Boone reached his decision ... looked out across a flower-field into the valley where the familiar scarlet outlines of the ramped Independent carrier rose. It would be only simple justice were they to steal that captured craft back from Krobis. Boldly, Boone strode forward. It was as if, suddenly, all fear had left him. Or perhaps he knew instinctively, somehow, that here audacity might win where stealth had failed. The flower-field fell behind them. They moved down a brushy draw into the valley. On, to the outskirts of the base camp. And still no guards rose up to halt them. A strange, deserted air hung about the place. There was no sign of life, no human movement. On, through the camp grounds. Across to the carrier. Around the great ramping-fins to the yawning hatchway. Still naught but silence. An echoing silence, too complete to believe. Eileen pressed against Boone. "Fred, I'm afraid!" Only it was too late for fears now; too late for panic. He climbed through the port, not even answering. Lor crowded behind him. "Let me go, my father--" "You'll follow." Boone clipped it. "You've got a job; me--I don't matter." On, up the ladder; then through other hatches. Still silence. Still no sign of crewmen. At last, the control room. Boone's heart pounding, pounding.