"Throw him in one of the empty cabins, Oruk, then stand by in the rocket room. We're taking off. I'll attend to the brave Earthman later." * * * * * Ron came back to full consciousness, his head spinning dizzily as the blood rushed back. He was lying on the floor of a bare metal room. The door was locked, as expected. Were they in space already? He hadn't heard the throb of the rockets. He rushed to the port and looked out. No, they were still resting in the dark hollow of Ceres. He tried the port, and to his surprise it swung open. That meant they'd be rising very soon, else Oruk wouldn't have been so careless. Ron estimated his chances, and made up his mind quickly. He'd have to get out of here while he could, then find another entrance whereby he could gain the control room where Tarnuff was. At least the element of surprise would be in his favor. He clambered through the port and slid down the smooth curve of the ship, finally dropping to the ground ten feet below. There were four airlocks, one pair amidships and the other pair near the prow. He tried them all. All were tightly sealed. He ran back toward the stern, looking up at the row of ports. But there were no handholds for him there, even if he could have leaped up and reached them. He stopped suddenly at the huge, rectangular under-hull repulsion plates. No, there was no entrance that way. Even as he looked at them, he heard their low steady hum begin; the entire hull began quivering. He ran on, and reached the rear fin just as the ship began to lift. With a little prayer he leaped and pulled himself up. It was a foolhardy thing to do, Ron knew that, even as he was climbing atop a six-foot tube by using the smaller tubes as a ladder. He knew the atmosphere ended about a half-mile up; he also knew that if those tubes started blasting suddenly he'd be a cinder in no time at all. He gained his precarious perch, and moved along toward the rocket-room port a dozen feet ahead of him. Luckily the spacer was lifting slowly. He reached the port and peered in. Oruk, a huge Jovian brute, was facing half away from Ron; his hands were on the fuel levers as though awaiting orders from Tarnuff. The spacer stopped rising, just clear of the cliffs. The air was tenuous, barely breathable now. With frantic fingers Ron tugged at the rim around the heavy glass port. It was useless. At the same instant he saw Oruk throw several levers. The small tubes on which Ron was standing began to vibrate, and he could feel increasing heat through his heavy shoes. Desperately he raised one foot and crashed his heel against the glass. It rang hollowly, but didn't break. Oruk turned at the sound, a startled look on his huge stupid face. Again Ron lashed out, and a third time. The glass crashed inward just as Oruk advanced toward him with powerful long arms reaching out.