not the past, dead and numbered--history was
now. All things, all space, all time, were forever fixed at the
instant of now.

In Dirrul's mind a tumult of facts trembled on the verge of a
startling new order--the atomic structure of all energy and the black
saucer of the galaxy. The violent spasms the Earthmen had suffered
before they found the Rational Potential and the devastation of the
Galactic War.

But before he could assess such new values and verbalize the new
generalization the antiquated warning system of his ship twanged
tinnily. On the control panel screen he saw the trim outline of a
white Agronian police ship. A moment later the voice came over the
speaker, ordering him to state his permit registry and his
destination.

Dragged so suddenly back to reality, Dirrul reacted in panic. It was a
routine inquiry. He might have bluffed his way clear. Instead he put
the cargo ship at top speed toward Vinin and watched helplessly while
the patrol cruiser closed relentlessly in.

"Stand for search!" the voice commanded.

When he did nothing the police shot a warning rocket over his bow. A
second shot struck the rear of the cargo ship and tore away a section
of landing gear. Swearing, Dirrul tried to maneuver out of range, and
to a certain extent he was successful. But piloting skill could not
make up for the cumbersome bulk of his unarmed ship. Two more blasts
hit him, collapsing the forward compartment and knocking out one power
tube.

At the point of triumph, however, the police patrol turned away and
left Dirrul limping alone in space. For a moment he was puzzled. In
another ten minutes they could have boarded the cargo carrier and made
him prisoner. But he understood when he glanced again at the star
map--the Agronian police had pursued him far into Vininese territory.
If Vininese patrols had found them there it might have created an
unpleasant intergalactic incident.

Dirrul made a quick survey of the damage. He had only one power tube
intact--beyond that, the cargo carrier was wrecked and he had on board
nothing with which to make repairs. He could move ahead only at
quarter-speed.

Sorgel had put a time limit of one hundred days on the trip to Vinin.
Headquarters had to know by then of the Plan on Agron. Dirrul had five
days left and as the hours ran out he was still grinding slowly toward
the outer atmosphere of Vinin. Quite aware that proper security
demanded the message be delivered in person,