"Back to the precinct," shouted Jeff. "There's still fighting going on."

"It's a beautiful view," said Miss Higgins. "This is really the way to do bird-watching. We can follow them as they fly."

Jeff and Albany were hemmed in, and the Ingmen were very wary in their approach, but it seemed just a matter of time. A few of the Ingmen faced the crowd, holding them off with blasters.

"Get down, Norby," said Jeff. "And you, Miss Higgins, lead the crowd against those Ingmen."

"Indeed I will," said Miss Higgins. "Barbarians!"

"We're coming, Fargo," shouted Jeff.

They landed. Miss Higgins broke away quickly, and Norby rolled toward the nearest Ingman who promptly fell over him. One of Norby's arms shot outward and seized the Ingman's blaster. He flipped it to Jeff, who seized it.

Meanwhile Miss Higgins marched up to the crowd, brandishing her umbrella and shouting in a surprisingly loud voice, "Come on, you cowards. Are you going to stand there and let those villains seize your park? Central Park was made for birdwatchers and for good people, and not for villains. Save your park if you have an ounce of manhood and womanhood in you! Are you going to let me do it all alone? I'm one weak, nearly middle-aged woman, and here I go. Who'll follow me? Onward, Higgins's soldiers, marching for the right!"

She charged forward, umbrella high, and Norby suddenly shouted. "Hurrah for Miss Higgins!"

The crowd took it up, and soon there was a confused roar "Hurrah for Miss Higgins! Hurrah for Miss Higgins!"

The mass of people moved forward, and the Ingmen instantly turned and made for the relative safety of the precinct house itself. The crowd, wild with fury, followed.

Jeff held back Norby and kept him from following. "No, no. Things are all right without us now. What we've got to do is get to Space Command. Can you do that if I give you the correct space coordinates?"

"Sure. Right through hyperspace."

"Do you have the energy?"

"You bet. I filled up on hyperspatial charge when we came through it from dragon-land."

"Good. And I must say that going through hyperspace is very pleasant. I didn't feel a thing. It was like blinking, or like a hiccup allover your insides."

"That's because I have a built-in hyperspatial shield," said Norby. "Didn't I tell you old Mac was a genius? I guess that's why I don't need a transmit. I am a transmit myself, and if you hold me tight, you come with me."

"How did you know I'd come with you?"

"I just guessed you would."

"What would have happened if you had guessed wrong?"

"It would have been pretty horrible for you, Jeff, but you know I'm never wrong."

"I know no such thing."

"Well, there's no use talking to you when you're that unreasonable. Give me the coordinates of Space Command. Okay, here we go!"

"Ouch!" said Jeff. This time he had landed on one side, still holding Norby. His right elbow hurt like mad.

"Where are we?" whispered Norby, his eyes peering from between the barrel and the hat. "Have I gotten us to the right place?"

"You have," said Jeff, sitting up with a groan.

"Never-fail Norby, they call me."

Jeff looked about and found himself in the midst of the highest officers in the Space Command, including Admiral Yobo, who looked as if he had been glaring and swearing for some time.

In back of Jeff was the open door of Space Command's transit station.

"It's working!" one of the officers cried, rushing past Jeff into the transmit.

"This boy must have come by transmit and rolled out just now," said another. "Didn't anyone see him? With this kind of security, we could expect Ing himself to appear among us."

"I saw him arrive," said Yobo in his rolling bass voice. "I think you 'II find that however Cadet Wells arrived, the transmit is again out of order."

Again out of order, not still. The Admiral was careful not to describe exactly what he had seen or hint that arrival had not been by transmit. A good man, thought Jeff. Quick-thinking and on the side of all decent cadets.

"May I speak to you alone, Admiral?" Jeff asked.

Yobo stroked his chin thoughtfully, then nodded at the others-an offhand gesture that had the clear force of a command. The officers left.

"My robot-" Jeff began.

"You bought that robot with the money I gave you? That was all you could get?" said the admiral.

Norby stirred, but Jeff punched the barrel from behind to keep him quiet. "It is a very good robot," Jeff said, "with a number of good and also exasperating abilities. And he will teach me Martian Swahili in no time. He is also a clever engineer and can fix the transmit. Ing and his Ingrates have control of Manhattan and-"

"We know about that, Cadet Wells. He's issuing orders for total surrender and insists on being called 'Emperor.' My own feeling is that the transmit isn't broken, but is under control from the other end." Yobo looked calmly at Jeff. Then he said, " And what do you say about that?"

"Aren't you going to do anything?" Jeff asked.

"I'm certainly not going to surrender," Yobo said, "but I have to be careful. All of Manhattan is hostage to Ing, and other places on Earth may fall to him, too, unless-"

"Unless what, sir?"

"Unless your brother can do something. He has been my close adviser in all this. He suspected that Ing would strike at Manhattan first, and he has taken measures."

"What measures?"

"We'll have to see," said Yobo calmly. "Meanwhile, what is it you want to do? Anything besides fixing the unfixable transmit?"

"I guess my robot can't really fix the transmit if Ing's blocked it. May I consult Norby-that's my robot's name-sir?"

"Go ahead, Cadet."

Jeff bent over Norby's hat and asked in a whisper, "What now?"

Norby's answer was so soft that Jeff couldn't hear, so he bent closer until his nose touched Norby's hat. His nose tingled and he stood up. "Ow!"

Norby's hand reached over to Jeff's leg and grabbed it hard.

I don't want the admiral to hear! I think I could gimmick a small ship (if he'll give us one) and hyperjump us to Earth.

Jeff gulped. "Norby?" he said faintly, feeling the tingle through his leg this time.

I think the dragon made you responsive to telepathy if I touch you. Get me a ship!

"Cadet Wells!" said Yobo. "Are you sane?"

"Most of the time, sir. And Norby is, too, some of the time. What we want is a small ship, just large enough to hold me and Norby."

"Why?"

"The idea is to move it past any security network Ing may have, and then fit it into his headquarters. I've been there, and I recognized it. He had it all draped in flags, but I could tell it was the main waiting room of the Old Grand Central Station. It had a museum smell about it, and I learned every inch of it when I used to visit it as a youngster. I know the transmit coordinates of the station, or at least Norby does because he memorizes transmit coordinates whenever he's been anywhere…"

"Cadet, you mean well," said Yobo, "but without a transmit it will take days to get to Earth, and with a transmit you wouldn't need a ship. You don't need a ship to make a trip to Earth. I've got the fleet itself ready to do it, but Ing threatens to blow up Manhattan if I as much as move a ship."

"That's just bluff."

"You're sure of that? You'd risk Earth's most renowned relic of ancient days, its most famous center of population, on your certainty?"

"The fleet would be noticed if it made a move, but one ship-one small ship-".

"Nonsense! It would be noticed, too. You should understand the efficiency of space detection, Cadet. You've been in the academy long enough for that."

"Please, Admiral," said Jeff. "Trust me. My robot is very good with machinery, and perhaps he can speed up one of your small ships and arrange to have it deflect the spy beams and move it right into the Grand Central waiting room."