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I motioned for my officers to follow me, and we made our way, silent and grim-faced, to the navigating room.

“Nice, friendly lad, isn’t he?” snarled Correy. “I thought there was something up. What are your plans, sir?”

“We’ll go to the rescue of Inverness and Brady, of course. Mr. Correy, place Tipene under arrest, and bring him here at once. Mr. Kincaide, take over the ship; give orders to set her down where we were. And you, Mr. Hendricks, will take personal command of the forward ray tubes.”

My officers sprang to obey orders, and I paced restlessly up and down the room, thinking. Just as the Ertak settled softly to earth, Correy returned with his prisoner. Two men stood on guard with drawn atomic pistols at the door.

“What’s the meaning of this indignity, sir?” flared Tipene. He had dressed hurriedly, and was by no means an imposing spectacle. He drew himself up to his full height, and tried to look domineering, but there was fear in his eyes. “I shall report you—”

“You’ll do no reporting, Tipene,” I broke in coldly. “I’ll do the reporting. You see, we know all about your little plan to desert your comrades, held by the Aranians as hostages, and to grasp all the glory of your findings for yourself. But—the plan doesn’t work. We’re going back.”