He turned his attention to the part of the floor left open for him. Quickly he bent down and studied the codes on each of the programming units, as if he were seeking exactly the right ones that had previously been in those slots.

He found the series he wanted: an intricate system of cross-connected units that had originally been designed to programme a remote-control landing system, an advanced Waldo mechanism capable of landing the craft on a planet and taking off again, all directed on the pulse level of human thought.

He slid each unit of the series into its sequential position and locked it in.

Then, that important task completed, he picked up the remote-control attachment for the series and casually put it in his pocket.

He returned to the control board and spent several minutes examining the wiring and comparing it with a wall chart. A number of wires had been torn loose. These he now reconnected, and at the same time he managed with a twist of his pliers to short-circuit a key relay of the remote-control pilot.

Lesbee replaced the panel itself loosely. There was no time to connect it properly. And, since he would easily justify his next move, he pulled a cage out of the storeroom. Into this he hoisted Dzing, manacles and all.

Before lowering the lid, he rigged into the cage a simple resistance network that would prevent the Karn from broadcasting on the human-thought level. The device was simple merely in that it was not selective. It had an on-off switch which triggered, or stopped, energy flow in the metal walls on the thought level.

When the device was installed, Lesbee slipped the tiny remote control for it into his pocket. He did not activate the control. Not yet.

From the cage, Dzing telepathed: 'It is significant that these beings have selected me for this special attention. We might conclude that it is a matter of mathematical accident, or else that they are very observant and so noticed that I was the one who directed activities. Whatever the reason, it would be foolish to turn back now.'

A bell began to ring. As Lesbee watched, a spot of light appeared high on one of the screens. It moved rapidly toward some crossed lines in the exact center of the screen. Inexorably, then, the Hope of Man, as represented by the light, and the lifeboat moved toward their fateful rendezvous.

Browne's instructions were: 'Come to the alternate control room.'

Lesbee guided his powered dolly with the cage on it, out of the big ship's airlock B – and saw that the man in the control room of the lock was Second Officer Selwyn. Heavy brass for such a routine task. Selwyn waved at him with a twisted smile, as Lesbee wheeled his cargo along the silent corridor.

He saw no one else on his route. Other personnel had evidently been cleared from this part of the vessel. A little later, grim and determined, he set the cage down in the center of the auxiliary control room and anchored it magnetically to the floor.

Browne climbed out of his control chair and stepped down from the rubber-sheathed dais to the same level as Lesbee. He came forward, smiling, his hand held out. He was a big man, as all the Brownes had been, bigger by a head than Lesbee, and good-looking in a clean-cut way. The two men were alone.

'I'm glad you were so frank,' he said. 'I doubt if I could have spoken so bluntly to you, without your initiative as an example.'

But as they shook hands, Lesbee was wary and suspicious, thinking: 'He's trying to recover from the insanity of his reaction. I really blew him wide open.'

Browne continued in the same hearty tone, 'I've made up my mind. An election is out of the question. The ship is swarming with untrained dissident groups, most of which simply want to go back to Earth.'

Lesbee, who had the same desire, was discreetly silent.

Browne said, 'You'll be ground captain. I'll be ship captain. Why don't we sit down right now and work out a communique on which we can agree and that I can read over the speakers to everyone aboard?'

As Lesbee seated himself in the chair beside Browne, he was thinking: 'What can be gained from publicly naming me ground captain?'

He concluded finally, cynically, that the older man could gain the confidence of John Lesbee – lull him, lead him on, delude him, destroy him.

Surreptitiously, Lesbee examined the room. The auxiliary control room was a large square chamber adjoining the massive central engines. Its control board was a duplicate of the one on the bridge located at the top of the ship. The great vessel could be guided equally from either board, except that preemptive power was on the bridge. The officer of the watch was given the right to make merit decisions in an emergency.

Lesbee made a quick mental calculation, and deduced that it was First Officer Miller's watch on the bridge. Miller was a staunch supporter of Browne. The man was probably watching them on one of his screens, ready to come to the aid of Browne at a moment's notice.

A few minutes later, Lesbee listened thoughtfully as Browne read their joint communique over the intercom, designating him as ground captain. He found himself a little amazed, and considerably dismayed, at the absolute confidence the older man must feel about his own power and position on the ship. It was a big step, naming his chief rival to so high a rank.

Browne's next act was equally surprising. While they were still on the viewers, Browne reached over, clapped Lesbee affectionately on the shoulders and said to the watching audience:

'As you all know, John is the only direct descendant of the original captain. No one knows exactly what happened half a hundred years ago when my grandfather first took command. But I remember the old man always felt that only he understood how things should be. I doubt if he had any confidence in any young whippersnapper over whom he did not have complete control. I often felt that my father was the victim rather than the beneficiary of my grandfather's temper and feelings of superiority.'

Browne smiled engagingly. 'Anyway, good people, though we can't unbreak the eggs that were broken then, we can certainly start healing the wounds, without' – his tone was suddenly firm – 'negating the fact that my own training and experience make me the proper commander of the ship itself.'

He broke off. 'Captain Lesbee and I shall now jointly attempt to communicate with the captured intelligent life form from the planet below. You may watch, though we reserve the right to cut you off for good reason.' He turned to Lesbee. 'What do you think we should do first, John?'

Lesbee was in a dilemma. The first large doubt had come to him, the possibility that perhaps the other was sincere. The possibility was especially disturbing because in a few moments a part of his own plan would be revealed.

He sighed, and realized that there was no turning back at this stage. He thought: 'We'll have to bring the entire madness out into the open, and only then can we begin to consider agreement as real.'

Aloud, he said in a steady voice, 'Why not bring the prisoner out where we can see him?'

As the tractor beam lifted Dzing out of the cage, and thus away from the energies that had suppressed his thought waves, the Karn telepathed to his contact on Alta III:

'Have been held in a confined space, the metal of which was energized against communication. I shall now attempt to perceive and evaluate the condition and performance of this ship -'

At that point, Browne reached over and clicked off the speaker system. Having shut off the audience, he turned accusingly to Lesbee, and said, 'Explain your failure to inform me that these beings communicated by telepathy.'

The tone of his voice was threatening. There was a glint of anger in his eyes.