would look inviting to
colonists. But at any time its sun could demonstrate its variability and
turn it into a cloud-covered world of steaming prospective jungle, or in
a slightly shorter time turn it to a glacier-world. The vegetation on
Glamis was remarkable. The planet, though, was of no use to humanity
because it was unpredictable.

The _Horus_ ran in overdrive for two days while a low-power unit was
built in its engine-room, to go in parallel to the normal overdrive. But
there was a double-throw switch in the line, now. Either the standard,
multiple light-speed overdrive could be used, or the newer and vastly
slower one, but not both together. The ship came out of overdrive in
absolute emptiness with no sun anywhere nearby. She was surrounded on
every hand by uncountable distant stars. The new circuit was brazed in.
It had a micro-timer included in its design. Within its certain, limited
timing-capacity, it could establish or break a contact within the
thousandth of a microsecond.

Bors made tests, target-practice of a sort. He let out a metal-foil
balloon which inflated itself, making a sphere some forty feet in
diameter. In the new low-speed overdrive he drew away from it for a
limited number of microseconds. He measured the distance run. He made
other runs, again measuring. From ten thousand miles away he made a
return-hop to the target-balloon and came out within a mile of it.

He cheered up. This was remarkably accurate. He sent the ship into
standard overdrive again. Twice more, however, he stopped between stars
and practiced the trick of breaking out of the new overdrive--in which
his ship was undetectable--at a predetermined point. The satisfaction of
successful operation almost made up for the extremely disagreeable
sensations involved.

But on the eighth ship-day out from Glamis, the _Horus_ came back to
unstressed space with a very, very bright star burning almost straight
ahead. The spectroscope confirmed that it was the sun of Meriden.

Bors sounded the action alert. Gongs clanged. Compartment-doors hissed
shut.

"You know," said Bors conversationally into the all-speaker microphone
and in the cushioned stillness which obtained, "you all know what we're
aiming at. A food-supply for the fleet. But we've got what looks like a
very useful gadget for fighting purposes. We need to test it. There's a
small squadron on Meriden, ahead, so we'll take them on. It is necessary
that we get _all of them_, so