hion from the planet's surface. As Dasinger had suspected, he lacked,
and by a good deal, Miss Mines's trained sensitivity with the
speedboat's controls; but he succeeded in wrestling the little ship up
to a five-mile altitude where a subspace dive might be carried out in
relative safety.

He was attempting then to get the Mooncat's nose turned away from the
distant volcano ranges towards which she seemed determined to point when
the detector needles slapped flat against their pins and the alarm bell
sounded. A strange ship stood outlined in the Mooncat's stern screen.

* * * * *

The image vanished as Dasinger hit the dive button, simultaneously
flattening the speed controls with a slam of his hand. The semisolid
subspace turbulence representing the mountain ranges beyond the lake
flashed instantly past below him ... within yards, it seemed. Another
second put them beyond the planet's atmosphere. Then the Spy reappeared
in subspace, following hard. A hammering series of explosions showed
suddenly in the screens, kept up for a few hair-raising moments, began
to drop back. Five minutes later, with the distance between them
widening rapidly, the Spy gave up the chase, swung around and headed
back towards the planet.

Dasinger shakily reduced his ship's speed to relatively sane level, kept
her moving along another twenty minutes, then surfaced into normspace
and set a general course for the Hub. He was a very fair yachtsman for
a planeteer. But after riding the Mooncat for the short time he'd turned
her loose to keep ahead of the Spy through the G2's stress zone, he
didn't have to be told that in Fleet territory he was outclassed. He
mopped his forehead, climbed gratefully out of the pilot seat and went
to the cot he had hauled into the control room, to check on Duomart
Mines.

She was still unconscious, of course; the dose he'd given her was enough
to knock a kwil-sensitive out for at least a dozen hours. Dasinger
looked down at the filth-smudged, pale face, the bruised cheeks and
blackened left eye for a few seconds, then opened Dr. Egavine's medical
kit to do what he could about getting Miss Mines patched up again.

Fifteen hours later she was still asleep, though to all outer
appearances back in good repair. Dasinger happened to be bemusedly
studying her face once more when she opened her eyes and gazed up at
him.

"We made it! You ..." She smiled, tried to sit up, looked startled