advantage of it."

"They used some of it. No one has been able to prove conclusively how they built the pyramids."

"Slave labor."

"That is not a complete explanation."

"All right—forget the pyramids. What happened to the rest of their science?"

"The answer lies in a basic trend of the Egyptians as a people. They were completely preoccupied with death rather than life. To them, their years of living was only a period in which to prepare for eternity. Their ambitions and talents were directed toward the building of great tombs and the perfect preservation of bodies after death. In the light of this does it seem so strange that they turned their backs on all knowledge except that which aided them in dead directions?"

Mike was regarding Doree with a new respect. "I owe you an apology. You're a smart girl. You've got a brain in your head. I'm so used to carting empty-headed females around the System that I'd forgotten smart ones existed."

"I'm sure you mean that as a compliment, but the fact remains that father and I blundered you into a perilous position. We should have told you about McKee and Talbott. But we didn't think—"

"Your shortcoming was that you were honest and thought everyone else was. That's a common failing."

"But we knew they had bad reputations."

"It's pretty obvious how their thinking went. They must have had a clue to the contents of the papyrus. They knew your father wouldn't act without integrity but they banked on his eagerness as a student—figured it would cause him to accept their terms in order to get his hands on the scroll because there was certainly nothing dishonorable about buying it from them. They knew also that he would keep his word, being that kind of a man."

Doree's shoulders drooped in misery. "I guess that's about it."

"It was the best way they could think of to get the papyrus translated and still keep the contents secret." Mike rubbed his chin. "They were pretty smart boys. They were certain your father would find a way to act on whatever information it contained and all they had to do was stay on his trail and await their opportunity."

"How could anyone be so vile?"

Mike ignored the question. "I said they were smart, but they weren't smart enough."

"What do you mean?"

"This little trick of marooning us on a fatal orbit in space. It won't work."

"Why not?"

"We'll follow them."

Doree was completely bewildered. "But you said your pile was stolen."

"It was. We won't need it."

"And all your instruments were smashed."

"We won't need them, either. Your father will tell them the planet's location. There's not much else he can do. Then—we'll follow them."

"One of us is crazy," Doree said, weakly.

"No. McKee and Talbott were just badly informed. They have an automatic ship and evidently don't know too much about it. You see, the electroparalysis ray has one basic element around which it functions—magnetism. The jolt they handed us was of such size that it created a magnetic field around their ship. If they had been going through an asteroid belt they would have been bombarded into oblivion. As it is they'll still be bombarded in a sense—by us."

"You mean—"

"The field envelopes their ship and trails out behind it like an invisible chain. They couldn't possibly have shoved us hard enough to get us clear of it. So when they pulled out, the Space Queen nosed right around and followed them." Mike grinned. "We're on their tail right now, just as surely as if they had us on a tow-rope."

"Then we can still help father!"

Mike sobered. "We don't know what we can do. We're still not out of the woods. There's a little problem of landing a dead ship on that planet after we come within range of its gravity. Then, too, heaven only knows where we'll set down. If it's a big planet—"

Instead of wincing before this new peril, Doree stiffened against it. "I'm sure you'll do all that any man could do."

"I'll do my best."

"And so long as the whole disaster was our fault—"

"Forget it." Mike conscious of a warmth rising within him, took his eyes quickly from her face and went to check ship....

The slow passage of time was the most difficult factor to contend with. Mike wracked his brain for a means of speeding up the Space Queen. He was confident that the craft was moving straight and true in the wake of the other ship and that unless drastic adjustments were made in the course, she would continue to do so. But so slowly—so very slowly. Acceleration caused by the magnetic field had long-since reached its apex and now the Space Queen moved at a steady unchanging pace.

He achieved a little more speed by taking charges from three of the primers, placing them in the pile head, and igniting with the fourth primer. He picked up possibly two Gs before the power burned out.

He and Nicko donned space suits, magnetized themselves aft, and opened the suit's drive plugs to the maximum. The resulting force smashed them against the hull, almost breaking their ribs. Some additional acceleration was achieved but pathetically little.

Who would have thought, Mike pondered bitterly, that I'd land out here pushing my own ship through space? What a laugh the wits at Outer Port would get when and if this little adventure was sounded around. If—that was the big word that stuck in Mike's mind.

An important facet of the problem was keeping Doree's morale high. Mike enjoyed this. He learned all about her and there came a sudden dizzy moment when he found himself kissing her. After that he was more careful.

Then, at the last came the great thrill—abruptly, as all such things come. Mike was puttering with the radio when Nicko turned from the port to say, "Indescribably beautiful land ho! Luscious round planet dead ahead at five o'clock!"

Mike leaped to the port. Smaller than Terra and with different continental markings, but in other respects, quite similar. Nicko jumped up and down clapping his four hands. Mike grabbed him and lifted him in a bear-hug, scratching himself unmercifully on the little Martian's sharp scales. Then he bolted aft to tell Doree.

There was no restraint in his kiss this time and for a few moments the ship and the landfall vanished from their minds. They did not know where they were; nor did they care.

Then Mike jerked himself back to the business at hand and rushed to the pilot cabin; the dangerous business ahead of them.

They were already in range, being gripped and dragged down by the planet's pull. Mike ordered Nicko and Doree into straps and buckled himself into the pilot's chair.

He surveyed the fast-greatening planet. There would be no choice of landing fields. Mike could only hope to bring the Space Queen down on dry land rather than in the center of an ocean.

She was responding to her fins now and Mike put her into a long glide. Below, the land and the water separated themselves and Mike studied the gray expanse below. Ocean.

Mike leveled out and struggled for altitude. There was minor response as the atmosphere outside clawed at the hull, dragging it down, heating it a dull red.

All during the trip he had fought inertia. Now his problem was reversed, rapid acceleration being the demon of the moment. A helpless shell rocketing toward a solid obstacle.

Mike felt a surge of relief as the streaming gray below turned to racing green. At least they would not finish up trapped in a submarine. But the land could be as lethal as the sea and now the moment was at hand.

Mike angled the fins to their maximum. He yelled. "Contact!" Then he prayed.

There was a great crash—and oblivion.

Pain brought back Mike's consciousness. Without opening his eyes, he analyzed the pain. It was in his shoulder. He tried the muscles gingerly and decided it wasn't broken. If that was the