The new units had turned out to look very little like the original. Fourteen feet long by eighteen inches outside diameter, they looked very much like a group of stove-pipes arranged in a circular pattern around the engineering quarters, braced from wall to wall. The control console itself, even though made rapidly, had the look of a carefully planned and well-made unit; something that might have turned up in one of Earth's better R&D labs, as part of a multi-million dollar project. All together, the drive rods would provide something better than a tenth of a gee thrust for the combined mass of the wheel, Hot Rod, the pile and the other subsidiary units around them. A tenth of a gee. Not enough to land on Earth; but with things down there the way they were now, who wanted to? With these units, the whole storehouse of the solar system was at their disposal. With these units they could reach the asteroids. With these units, they could range as far out as Pluto without fear of consequences--without, Mike added to himself, even the fear of radiation that was a constant threat to them here, for the farther from the sun they went, the less radiation they would have to endure. The three months would be extended. For those who needed it, better shielding could be found. The system was theirs. Possibly, also the stars beyond. That, he reminded himself, if they could get these units installed before the scuttlebug arrived. Undoubtedly, Earth Security had sent arms as well as men. Where they were, not strictly on course, but still in a satellite-type orbit, they remained sitting ducks for any number of countermeasures that Earth might throw against them. Once gone from this orbit, there was not sufficient rocket-power on Earth to track them down. If they took Hot Rod with them, there was no single weapon at man's command that could stop them. And take Hot Rod with them they would. In his address to the ship's personnel this morning, Captain Nails had made it quite clear that they wanted no part of the plots and counterplots of Earth; that theirs was the job of scientists, not soldiers; that a path was open to them that they would follow. Later, they could return. Later, with the supplies that were free to be taken from space, they could build strength. They could return quietly, one by one, two by two, at times and places of their own choosing. Then, and only then, they could lend aid to those on Earth who would always fight for freedom. But not now. They were yet weak; the path of escape and the path of promise lay before them. The only help they could be would be to follow that path. It might not be that the path led where they wanted to go--or where they thought they were going--but nevertheless the path was there, and follow it they must. * * * * *