be you," the Leiter grated, moving toward them. The Martian
soldiers raised their guns. "It _must_ be you. You there, the boy. What
do you know about the destruction of our city? Answer!"

The boy shook his head. "Nothing," he whispered.

The box was silent for a moment. "He is telling the truth," it said
reluctantly.

"Next!"

"Nothing," the woman muttered. "Nothing."

"The truth."

"Next!"

"I had nothing to do with blowing up your city," the man said. "You're
wasting your time."

"It is the truth," the box said.

For a long time the Leiter stood, toying with his rod. At last he pushed
it back in his belt and signalled the soldiers toward the exit lock.

"You may proceed on your trip," he said. He walked after the soldiers.
At the hatch he stopped, looking back at the passengers, his face grim.
"You may go-- But Mars will not allow her enemies to escape. The three
saboteurs will be caught, I promise you." He rubbed his dark jaw
thoughtfully. "It is strange. I was certain they were on this ship."

Again he looked coldly around at the Terrans.

"Perhaps I was wrong. All right, proceed! But remember: the three will
be caught, even if it takes endless years. Mars will catch them and
punish them! I swear it!"

* * * * *

For a long time no one spoke. The ship lumbered through space again, its
jets firing evenly, calmly, moving the passengers toward their own
planet, toward home. Behind them Deimos and the red ball that was Mars
dropped farther and farther away each moment, disappearing and fading
into the distance.

A sigh of relief passed through the passengers. "What a lot of hot air
that was," one grumbled.

"Barbarians!" a woman said.

A few of them stood up, moving out into the aisle, toward the lounge and
the cocktail bar. Beside Thacher the girl got to her feet, pulling her
jacket around her shoulders.

"Pardon me," she said, stepping past him.

"Going to the bar?" Thacher said. "Mind if I come along?"

"I suppose not."

They followed the others into the lounge, walking together up the aisle.
"You know," Thacher said, "I don't even know your name, yet."

"My name is Mara Gordon."

"Mara? That's a nice name. What part of Terra are you from? North
America? New York?"

"I've been in New York," Mara said. "New York is very lovely." She was
slender and pretty, with a cloud of dark hair tumbling down her neck,
against her leather jacket.

They entered the