made as good a fix as possible and flashed a
NAVIGATION POWER OFF light. Ihjel unstrapped, stretched, and made
them a meal.

Ihjel had computed their passage time with precise allowances. Less
than ten hours after they arrived a powerful signal blasted into
their waiting receiver. They strapped in again as the NAVIGATION
POWER ON signal blinked insistently.

A ship had paused in flight somewhere relatively near in the vast
volume of space. It had entered normal space just long enough to
emit a signal of radio query on an assigned wave length. Ihjel's
ship had detected this and instantly responded with a verifying
signal. The passenger spacer had accepted this assurance and
gracefully laid a ten-foot metal egg in space. As soon as this had
cleared its jump field the parent ship vanished towards its
destination, light years away.

Ihjel's ship climbed up the signal it had received. This signal had
been recorded and examined minutely. Angle, strength and Doppler
movement were computed to find course and distance. A few minutes of
flight were enough to get within range of the far weaker transmitter
in the drop-capsule. Homing on this signal was so simple, a human
pilot could have done it himself. The shining sphere loomed up, then
vanished out of sight of the viewports as the ship rotated to bring
the spacelock into line. Magnetic clamps cut in when they made
contact.

"Go down and let the bug-doctor in," Ihjel said. "I'll stay and
monitor the board in case of trouble."

"What do I have to do?"

"Get into a suit and open the outer lock. Most of the drop sphere is
made of inflatable metallic foil, so don't bother to look for the
entrance. Just cut a hole in it with the oversize can-opener you'll
find in the tool box. After Dr. Morees gets aboard jettison the
thing. Only get the radio and locator unit out first--it gets used
again."

The tool did look like a giant can-opener. Brion carefully felt the
resilient metal skin that covered the lock entrance, until he was
sure there was nothing on the other side. Then he jabbed the point
through and cut a ragged hole in the thin foil. Dr. Morees boiled
out of the sphere, knocking Brion aside.

"What's the matter?" Brion asked.

There was no radio on the other's suit; he couldn't answer. But he
did shake his fist angrily. The helmet ports were opaque, so there
was no way to tell what expressions went with the gesture. Brion
shrugged and turned back to salvaging the equ