ation, as it had been designed to work,
but never had. If Cameron could be disposed of--

He shook his head. It wouldn't solve anything. He might fool them for
a while. They might think he was responsible. In the end, they'd find
out. Nona wasn't capable of that much deception, for she never knew
what a test was.

He went over to her. Once he had hoped.... It didn't matter what he
had hoped.

She looked up and smiled. She had a right to. No word had ever broken
the silence of her mind, but now she was communicating with something,
whatever it was that an electronic brain could say. Of course she
didn't understand that the conversation was taking place between two
captives, herself and the gravital computer.

Abruptly he turned away. He stopped at the telecom panel and
methodically kicked it apart. Delicate tubes smashed into powder. The
emergency radio he thoroughly demolished.

The ship was firmly in the grip of the gravital monitor. There was
nothing he could do about that. All that remained was to protect Nona
from their prying minds as long as he could.

She didn't hear the noise, or didn't care. She sat there, head in her
hands, calm and smiling.

* * * * *

The outer shell of the rocket dome opened before and closed behind
them. Jordan set the controls in neutral and lifted his hands,
muttering to himself. They were gliding through the lip of the inner
shell. Home.

"Cheer up," said Cameron breezily. "You're not really prisoners, you
know."

Nona seemed content, though Jordan didn't. Docchi said nothing, the
light gone from his face. Anti wasn't with them; she was floating in
the tank of acid. The gravity field of the asteroid made that
necessary.

The ship scraped gently and they were down. Jordan touched a lever;
passenger and freight locks were open.

"Let's go," said Dr. Cameron. "I imagine there's a reception committee
for you."

There was. The little rocket dome held more ships than normally came
in a year. The precise confusion of military discipline was everywhere
in evidence. Armed guards lined either side of the landing ramp down
which they walked.

At the bottom, a large telecom unit had been set up. If size indicated
anything, someone considered this an important occasion. From the
screen, larger than life, Medicouncilor Thorton looked out
approvingly.

The procession from the ship halted in front of the telecom unit.

"A good job, Dr. Cameron," sa