se," said Feldstein. "He's converted
the thing into a rocket."

"But the tail is closed," Granby objected. "There's no rocket orifice."

"Dummy cover, I imagine," Feldstein said. "Right, Mr. Porter?"

"Wrong," said Porter angrily. "The motive power is supplied by a
mechanism of my own devising! It has nothing to do with rockets! It's as
superior to rocket power as the electric motor is to the steam engine!"

Feldstein and Granby glanced at each other, and an almost identical
expression of superior smugness grew over their features. Feldstein
looked back at Porter and said, "Mr. Porter, I assure you that it
doesn't matter what you're using to lift that thing. You could be using
dynamite for all I care. The law says that it can't leave the ground
unless it's airworthy. Without wings or control surfaces, it is
obviously not airworthy. If it is not a rocket device, then it comes
under the jurisdiction of the Civil Aeronautics Authority, and if you
try to take off without our permission, you'll go to jail.

"If it _is_ a rocket device, then it will be up to the Space Force to
inspect it before take-off to make sure it is not dangerous.

"I might remind you, Mr. Porter, that you are on parole. You still have
three years to serve on your last conviction. I wouldn't play around
with rockets any more if I were you."

Porter blew up. "Listen, you! I'm not going to be pushed around by you
or anyone else! I know better than you do what Alcatraz is like, and I'm
not going back there if I can help it. This country is still
Constitutionally a democracy, not a bureaucracy, and I'm going to see to
it that I get to exercise my rights!

"I've invented something that's as radically new as ... as ... as the
Law of Gravity was in the Seventeenth Century! And I'm going to get
recognition for it, understand me?" He gestured furiously toward the
fuselage of the old _Supernova_. "That ship is not only airworthy, but
_space_worthy! And it's a thousand times safer and a thousand times
better than any rocket will ever be!

"For your information, Mister Smug-Face, I've already flown her!"

Porter stopped, took a deep breath, compressed his lips, and then said,
in a lower, somewhat calmer tone, "Know what she'll do? That baby will
hang in the air just like your aircar, there--and without benefit of
those outmoded, power-wasting blower fans, too.

"Now, understand me, Mr. Feldstein: I'm not going to break any laws
unless I have to. You and