tart the
rockets and be on our way."

"It isn't that easy," sighed Jordan. "A retracted combustion cap in
flight generally means at least one burned-out tube." He made his way
to the instrument panel and looked at it glumly. "Three."

"A factor." Docchi nodded. "But I was thinking about the robot."

Anti was impatient. "An interesting subject, no doubt. What about it?"

"Where did it get instructions? Not radio; the hull of the ship cuts
off all radiation. The last we knew, it was in our control."

"All right, how?"

"Voice," said Docchi. "Cameron's voice, to be exact."

"But he was in the rocket dome," Jordan objected.

"Think back to when we were loading the tank. We had to look through
the telecom and the angle of vision was bad. We couldn't see much of
the cargo lock. Anti couldn't see anything that wasn't directly
overhead. Both Cameron and the geepee managed to get inside and we
didn't know it."

Jordan hefted his weapon. "Looks like we've got another hunt on our
hands. This time a nice normal doctor."

"Keep it handy," said Docchi, glancing at the toaster. "But be careful
how you use it. One homicide and we can forget what we came for. I
think he'll be ready to surrender. The ship's temporarily disabled;
he'll consider that damage enough."

* * * * *

Jordan found the doctor in the forward section of the ship. Cameron
knew better than to argue with a toaster. In a matter of minutes he
was in the control room.

"Now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" he asked.

Docchi swiveled away from the instrument panel. "I don't expect active
cooperation, of course, but I like to think you'll give your word not
to hinder us hereafter."

Cameron glared. "I promise nothing of the kind."

"We can chain him to Anti," suggested Jordan. "That will keep him out
of trouble."

"Like leading a poodle on a leash? Nope," said Anti indignantly. "A
girl has to have some privacy."

"Don't wince, Cameron," objected Docchi. "She really was a girl once,
an attractive one."

"We can put him in a spacesuit and lock his hands behind his back,"
said Jordan. "Something like an ancient straitjacket."

Cameron laughed.

"No, that's inhuman," said Docchi.

Jordan juggled the toaster. "I can weld with this. Let's put him in a
cabin and weld the door closed. We can cut a slot to shove food in. A
very narrow slot."

"Excellent. I think you have the solution. That is, unless