At two Terran gravities, the velocity of the _Relay Girl_ built up bit by bit and mile by mile until they were going just shy of one thousand miles per second. This occurred an hour before turnover, which would take place at the twenty-third hour of flight. And at that time there occurred a rarity. Not an impossibility like the chances of collision with a meteor--those things happen only once in a lifetime, and Channing had had his collision. Nor was it as remote as getting a royal flush on the deal. It happened, not often, but it did happen to ships occasionally. Another ship passed within detector range. The celestial globe shimmered faintly and showed a minute point at extreme range. Automatic marker spheres appeared concentrically within the celestial globe and colures and diameters marked the globe off into octants. Bells rang briefly, and the automatic meteor circuits decided that that object was not approaching the _Relay Girl_. Then they relaxed. Their work was done until another object came within range for them to inspect. They were no longer interested, and they forgot about the object with the same powers of complete oblivion that they would have exerted on a meteor of nickel and iron. They were mechanically incapable of original thought. So the object, to them, was harmless. Channing looked up at the luminescent spot, sought the calibration spheres, made a casual observation, and forgot about it. To him it was a harmless meteor. Even the fact that his own velocity was a thousand miles per second, and the object's velocity was the same, coming to them on a one hundred and seventy degree course and due to pass within five thousand miles did not register. Their total velocity of two thousand miles did not register just because of that rarity with which ships pass within detector range, while meteors are encountered often. Had Channing been thinking about the subject in earnest, he would have known--for it is only man, with all too little time, who uses such velocities. The universe, with eternity in which to work her miracle, seldom moves in velocities greater than forty or fifty miles per second. Channing forgot it, and as the marker-spheres switched to accommodate the object, he turned to more important things. In the other ship, Hellion Murdoch frowned. He brightened, then, and depressed the plunger that energized his solar beam and projector. He did not recognize the oncoming object for anything but a meteor, either; and _his_ desire was to find out how his invention worked at top speeds. Kingman asked: "Another one?" "Uh-huh," said Murdoch idly. "I want to check my finders." "But they can't miss."