Duncan’s response was to fire a bolt that melted two of the _Maid’s_ stern tubes into slag. That didn’t harm anyone in the passenger ship, but it showed that he was presumably in earnest. And he had to get Andrea aboard now. She had smashed the radio, and probably was already under arrest. Well— “Sending radium. Don’t fire again.” “Send one of your passengers also. Jane Horton.” Andrea was booked under that alias, Olcott had said. There was a pause. Then—“Jane Horton victim of Plutonians. Must have turned off power in Helmet. Found dead in radio room just before you made contact.” Saul Duncan’s fingers didn’t move on the keys. Deep within him, something turned into ice. He was hearing a voice, seeing a face, both phantoms, for Andrea was dead. Andrea was dead. The words were meaningless. He became conscious of Olcott at his side, talking angrily. “What’s wrong? What did they say?” Duncan looked at Olcott. The dead, frozen fury in the pilot’s eyes halted Olcott in mid-sentence. Automatically Duncan’s hand moved over the keyboard. “Send the body to me.” Then he waited. On the visiplate was movement. A port gaped in the _Maid’s_ hull, the escape-hatch with which all ships were provided. Based on torpedo-tube principle, powered by magnetic energy, the projector was built to hurl crew or passengers out of the ship’s sphere of attraction. Sometimes the rockets would fail, in which case the vessel would crash on any nearby body. If that danger threatened, a man in a spacesuit, equipped with auxiliary rockets, could survive for days in the void, provided he was not dragged down with the ship. The projector took care of that. Now, tuned to minimum power, it thrust a bulky object out into space, pushing it toward the cruiser. Gravitation did the rest. The spacesuit dropped toward the smaller vessel, thudded against the hull. Duncan threw a series of hull magnets, one after another, till the suit was at an escape valve. Five minutes later the space coffin lay at Duncan’s feet. * * * * * Through the bars that protected the transparent face-plate he could see Andrea, her long lashes motionless on her cheeks. Duncan’s face was suddenly haggard. Olcott’s voice jarred on his taut nerves. “What happened? Did they—” “The Plutonians killed her,” Duncan said. “She turned off her Helmet, and they killed her.” Hartman was staring at a lead box attached to the spacesuit. “They sent the radium!” Duncan’s lips twisted in a bitter smile. With a quick movement he went to the controls and turned the cruiser into a new course. On the visiplate, the _Maid_ began to draw away. Olcott said, “How long will it take us to get back to Earth?” “We’re not going back.” Duncan’s voice held no emotion. “What?” “Andrea’s dead. The Plutonians killed her. You and Hartman helped.” Olcott’s big body seemed to tense. “Don’t be a fool. What good will it do to murder us? What’s done is done. You—”