The "Dauntless" swapped ends and virtually without delay began backtracking across the warps of Cth space. Since inertia didn't exist in hyperspace the change in direction was made instantaneously. At maximum blast the "Dauntless" began to put space between her and her pursuers, who at once changed course to overtake the fleeing Confederation ship. * * * * * Hour after hour the three ships drove through the harsh blue monochrome of upper Cth, and slowly the distance between pursuers and pursued lessened. Travelling in a great curve that would ultimately take them into Confederation territory Fiske and Pedersen watched the telltale dots in the spotting tank come closer. "We're not going to make it," Fiske said finally. "They'll catch or pass us before we hit the frontier." "Nice," Pedersen replied. "With one ahead matching our component and sowing mines, and the other behind and above us just in case we try to drop out. We've got about the same chance as a snowball in hell." "It's not quite that bad. We have weapons and we've got the broadcaster. They won't be expecting it, and if we drop into normal space looking like we want to fight, I'll bet they'll follow us." "Sure they will." "They'll get a surprise then. How'd you like to be wearing one of those cute little communicators and get a blast of Bordoni's progressive squirm the minute you made breakout?" "I wouldn't." "I'm betting that they won't either." Fiske turned to the talker--"all hands--Battle Stations! Full armor. Condition one. Bordoni--stand by with your recordings--report when ready." A cold ball bounced in Fiske's stomach as the reports snapped in. Up until now the Confederation ships had been individually superior to the aliens, an advantage that barely counterbalanced the Eglani's coordination, but these ships were superior to his own in speed at least, and what they might lack in firepower they made up in numbers. No skipper in his right mind would tackle two to one odds in favor of the aliens. But it was unavoidable now. Fiske shrugged. If he was right about the effect of his broadcaster, he had a chance--but the chance was a slim one anyway you looked at it. Sure--he knew the secret of Eglan coordination, but could he disrupt that coordination? It was a distinct possibility that his attempt at jamming would only be a minor annoyance, and if it was, the secret of the Eglani would die with him. Of course, there was a possibility that one of the message torpedoes would get through--but torpedoes travelling on a fixed course were usually intercepted and destroyed. At best they were a forlorn hope--sent Earthward more as a gesture than with any expectation of arrival. And with the Lorcom converted to a subetheric broadcaster he had no exterior communications. The "Dauntless" was on her own--cut off from help--wholly dependent upon the skill of her crew for survival. "Stand by for breakout," Fiske ordered.--"Execute."