tes, it's not likely they'll be very sympathetic. If the Solar
Government doesn't support us all the way, we'll never get another
chance."

"Well?" said Anti. She seemed trimmer, more vigorous. "What are we
waiting for? Let's take the last step first."

He raised his head. "The Solar Government won't like it."

"They won't, but there's nothing they can do about it."

"I think there is--simply shoot us down. When we stole the ship, we
automatically stepped into the criminal class."

"We knew that in advance."

"Is it worth it?"

"I think so," said Anti.

"In that event," he said, "I'll need time to get ready."

She scrutinized him carefully. "Maybe we can fix you up."

"With fake arms and grease-paint? No. They'll have to accept us as we
are."

"A good idea. I hadn't thought of the sympathy angle."

"Not sympathy. Reality. I don't want them to approve of us as handsome
accidentals and have them change their minds when they discover what
we're really like."

Anti looked doubtful, but she kept her objections to herself as she
waddled away.

Sitting in silence, he watched her go. She, at least, would derive
some benefit. Dr. Cameron apparently hadn't noticed that exposure to
extreme cold had done more to inhibit her unceasing growth than the
acid bath. She'd never be normal again; that was obvious. But some
day, if the cold treatment were properly investigated, she might be
able to stand gravity.

He examined the telecom. They were getting closer. No longer a bright
point of light, Earth was a perceptible disc. He could see the outline
of oceans, shapes of land; he could imagine people.

Jordan came in. "The record is rigged up, though we haven't had to use
it. But we have a friend behind us. An official friend."

"Has he blipped us?"

"Not yet. He keeps hanging on."

"Is he overtaking us?"

"He would like to."

"Don't let him."

"With this bag of bolts?"

"Shake it apart if you have to," Docchi impatiently said. "How soon
can you break into a broadcasting orbit?"

"I thought that was our last resort."

"Right. As far as Anti and I are concerned, this is it. Any argument
against?"

"None that I can think of," answered Jordan. "With a heavy cruiser
behind us, no argument at all."

* * * * *

They were all in the control compartment. "I don't want a focus
exclusively on me," Docchi was saying. "To a world of perfect normals
I may look strange, but we have