impatiently as the big door rolled away and the stars burned in at him. 

Then he shoved the speed control forward and the scout ship surged out 

into the blackness of space. His feet kicked at the pedals and his hands 

worked the stick. The scout ship rolled over and streaked toward the 

lighted ball of the earth. 

He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the mother-ship. Tiny 

flashes of brilliant light speared from the starship. They lifted, 

fluttered and followed him like a swarm of bees. 

They were giving chase! 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

He had thought there would be a pursuit. He kicked at the rudder pedals 

and threw the stick; the scout ship rolled over and plunged toward the 

ice cap at the north pole of the planet. At 16,000 m.p.h., the rocket 

was little more than a guided missile and he knew that when he reached 

the ice cap, he'd have to throttle back - but then so would his 

pursuers. 

Beside him, on the seat, Nick Danson's head rolled from side to side as 

the ship streaked toward the earth. The four scout ships were fanned out 

behind him and trying to close, yet he was holding them at bay with a 

mere 16,500 m.p.h. He wished frantically that he could have figured out 

a way to stymie the chase, but starships were not built to be sabotaged. 

The designers had done a damned good job on them, fitting them with 

every device known to prevent crippling, or damaging by the enemy, 

whoever it may be. 

The four ships were hanging on him. 

I've got to lose them, he thought feverishly. I've got to lose them long 

enough to get Danson back to the cabin and get the hell out again. After 

that, they can have me. But not now. He looked behind him, trying to 

determine whether or not they were getting set to fire on him. 

They didn't look it, but he couldn't tell. Weapons were not a scout 

ship's strong point. Each ship was armed with a large rocket launcher, 

but it was seldom used. Speed was the greatest weapon they needed and 

the military designers of the home planet had poured all their energy 

into the fast maneuvering of the craft. 

The heavy caps of ice that covered the continent of Greenland loomed up 

before him and he hoped that he could lose them in the white wilderness. 

He would have to throttle back when he reached the jagged waste of ice, 

but then so would the four behind him. They saw what he was attempting, 

and poured all the power they could into their ships. 

Lors flattened the ship out in a shallow dive and pushed the throttle 

control until it stopped. The needle on the airspeed indicator leaped