Lesbee had a strong impulse to go and see Tellier before he did anything.

But he recognized the desire as a weakness. He actually thought, 'Maybe I want him to talk me out of this.' He did not go.

For a few moments before he came down from high to even time, Lesbee stared at the twisted caricature figures of the Gourdy gang. It was an unhappy stare. He disliked this whole group. But unfortunately these were his only possible allies at this stage.

Most of these negative feelings were still strangely heavy on him a little later as he explained the situation to Gourdy. There were so many doubts – 'It's almost,' Lesbee thought, 'as if I consider what I'm about to do an outdated solution. Perhaps I've let all that scientific propaganda affect me.'

He reassured himself that Hewitt was simply another power seeker.

The faraway expression in Lesbee's eyes did not escape Gourdy.

It was the moment of carelessness he had been waiting for all these days. He glanced significantly at Harcourt, who, by instruction, had watched the two men alertly during their discussion.

Lesbee sighed. 'Better start the attack on the ship,' he thought, 'and get it over with.' His intention was to begin by disarming everybody aboard.

At that final instant he caught Harcourt's movement, and his fingers closed convulsively over the control device, squeezed it in a grip of iron.

It was the last thing he ever did.

The blow of energy from Harcourt's blaster caught him in the side of the head and upper shoulder.

Blackout!... death!... instantly.

Pressing the control button knocked him into another time ratio barely short of the ratio related to light-speed, about the same as Hewitt's original 973 to one.

There he lay as dead as any man would ever be.

Gourdy gazed down at the twisted body. In his sharp way, he had observed the one thing Lesbee did consistently in connection with his fantastic disappearing act: the putting of his hand in his pocket. There was no other repeated action.

So – Gourdy had reasoned – Lesbee had some device there by which he was able to become invisible.

He said, 'Roll him over and see what he's got in that pocket.'

The dead body was lifted as if it were made of feathers.

A moment later, Harcourt triumphantly handed Gourdy the control device.

Gourdy pressed the button and turned the switch, one after the other, to the three positions. Nothing happened. Maybe this wasn't it... They searched Lesbee's pockets frantically for some other mechanism, but found nothing.

Again and again, Gourdy manipulated the three-stage switch. Since it was a thought-amplifying device that reacted to certain thoughts only, there was no response.

Baffled, finally, he stared at the almost weightless, fragile body of his dead enemy; and in him were those bitter, hopeless feelings of an untrained man confronted by a scientific complexity.

Not for the first time he realized how much he actually needed Lesbee, or somebody like him.

But he knew also what had driven him. He wanted the captain's wives for himself; it was such a naked desire that had built up in him unbearably during this period when it seemed ' that he had lost everything.

Standing there, he accepted the partial defeat that was here.

'O.K., O.K.!' he said to his henchman in a savage tone, 'we'll take the ship just like we did the first time – except we'll wait for the next sleep period and catch them by surprise. That gives us about ten hours. So let's get some sleep and be ready.

When the ten hours were up, his instructions were: 'Kill only the Space Patrol guys – and Hewitt. We'll need the old ship people.'

The attack on the ship led by Gourdy began as a movement of a straggling line of men traversing one deserted corridor after another. Presently, the first trio of men broke off from the main group and headed for the engine room. Two other segments of three soon turned off, one heading for the alternate control room, the other for the bridge. The main body of men accompanied Gourdy to the upper levels.

It was here in the first officer's apartment – according to Lesbee – that the Space Patrol headquarters had been established. Other patrol men occupied various adjoining cabins.

Two groups of three men were sent into that area with master keys and with instructions to attempt total surprise and show no mercy to any of the new men on the ship.

Gourdy and the remaining two men went cautiously on to the captain's cabin. Using another of the numerous keys Lesbee had made, Gourdy softly unlocked the outer door and tiptoed inside... A minute later, two sleepy, startled women stared up at him from the beds in the master bedroom: his own wife, Marianne, and the woman, Ruth.

One of the other men had gone into the second bedroom. This individual now reported that it was occupied by Ilsa and Ann.

– No Hewitt. Never had been! Why hadn't Lesbee told him-?

Gourdy felt an intense but momentary rage. His emotion yielded to urgency. He left the women and headed for the detector instrument.

All the apartments he scanned were occupied.

After a few minutes of hastily searching for Hewitt, he realized that such a survey would take too long. As a final check, he switched to the dormitory in the lower part of the ship. It was deserted. So they were probably all back with their families.

He sought and found the button that flashed on the interior of patrol headquarters. It was a grimly satisfying scene: two dead men in pajamas. A woman lay sobbing on one of the bodies.

Flicking over to the cabins, one by one, he saw with total delight that his men had made a victorious sweep... In two of the apartments there had been fighting, the surprise evidently not complete. In one room, one of his own henchmen lay dead. But across from him was a dead stranger.

These two cabins were in shambles.

Jubilant, rubbing his hands with his absolute joy, Gourdy stepped out into the main room. The two men were standing nervously out in the corridor; he could see them through the door. The four women had put on dressing gowns and stood in a tight little group near the door of the main bedroom.

His women. Soon.

'Well, ladies,' he said, grinning widely, 'looks like I'm going to be captain again.'

Silence greeted his words. After a moment, the glum expressions on all four women's faces irritated him. 'By God!' he said, 'I'll kick you all out of here if you don't show a little interest!'

Tears came into Ruth's eyes. Then a sob escaped her lips. It was like a signal. All four women started to cry.

Gourdy went into an instant, towering rage. 'Get into that room over there!' he ordered. He indicated the second bedroom. 'And stay there.'

The sobs subsided. Silent again, they went inside and closed the door.

The two men had entered the room while this interchange was going on. One asked nervously, 'What's happening, Captain?'

'We're winning,' said Gourdy.

But he hurried back to the detector instrument, to make sure.

With fumbling fingers, he tuned in on the engine room.

There, also, was victory. Former First Officer Miller had been captured.

Gourdy broke in upon the scene via his viewplate communicator. Addressing Miller, he said, 'Where's Hewitt?'

Miller was visibly in a state of shock but his answer sounded sincere: 'In one of the cabins upstairs. I don't know which one – honest!'

Gourdy believed him. 'We'll get him!' he said savagely. And broke the connection.

Unfortunately, there were well over a hundred apartments in the upper part of the ship. It disturbed Gourdy that somehow his luck hadn't enabled him to pick out the one Hewitt was in.

'Damn it!' he thought. 'Why didn't he try to grab these women, like any normal man would do?'