"we'll stick to the regular lanes," said docchi. "i think we'll get closer. they have no reason to suspect that we're heading toward earth. mars is more logical, or one of the moons of jupiter, or another asteroid."

jordan shifted uneasily. "i'm not in favor of it. they'll pick us up before we have a chance to say anything."

"but there's nothing to distinguish us from an ordinary earth-to-mars rocket. we have a ship's registry on board. pick out a ship that's in our class. hereafter, we're going to be that ship. if traffic blips us, and they probably won't unless we try to land, have a recording ready. something like this: 'me 21 zip crackle 9 reporting. our communication is acting up. we can't hear you, traffic.' don't overdo the static effects but repeat that with suitable variations and i don't think they will bother us."

shaking his head dubiously, jordan swung away toward the repair shops.

"you look worried," said anti.

docchi turned around. "yeah."

"won't it work?"

"sure. we'll get close to earth. they're not looking for us around here. they don't really know why we escaped in the rocket. that's why they can't figure out where we're going."

his face was taut and his eyes were tired. "it's not that. the entire solar police force has been alerted for us."

"which means?"

"look. we planned to bypass the medicouncil and take our case directly to the solar government. if they want us as much as the radio indicates, 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."