Donna followed it on the screen until the brief flashes of its jets were
dimmed by a new radiance--the ruddy disk of Mars. "We _are_ where he
said," she admitted. "Now what?"

She looked at Phillips, who merely shrugged. "What do you make of it?"
she insisted.

"Pretty much as he said, probably," answered the engineer. "He's heading
for Deimos, I suppose. I hear they're landscaping the whole moon--it's
only about five miles in diameter--and building a new space station for
a radio beacon and relay."

"Does that log say anything about the plague ship?" asked Truesdale
nervously.

Donna scanned the observation record, then adjusted the viewer. The red
radiance of Mars fled, to be replaced by a dimmer scene of distant
stars.

"In there someplace," she said. "Out of range of this screen, but we
could probably locate it with detector instruments."

"Why all the jabber?" demanded Brecken. "Let's get going!"

Phillips stared at him. "What's the rush? Did he sell you that easily?"

"Huh? Oh, hell, no! I mean let's make a dive for Mars. They were dumb to
set us loose with a fast ship. We're dumber if we don't use it!"

"That's right," agreed Truesdale eagerly. "We don't owe them anything.
They owe us; for the years they took out of our lives!"

* * * * *

Truesdale had a point there, Phillips felt. This could grow into quite a
discussion, and he was not sure which side he wanted to take. He had no
great urge to become a hero, but on the other hand there was something
about Brecken that aroused a certain obstinacy in him.

"Wait a minute!" Donna protested; "what do you think you're going to
do?"

"Slip into a curve for Mars," said Brecken. "Slow down enough to take to
chutes an' let this can smack up in the deserts somewhere. They'll never
know if we got out, an' we'll be on our own."

The girl turned to Phillips. "How about you?" she asked. "Don't you
think we should at least consider what Varret told us? If this plague is
as dangerous as he says, this is no time to--"

"Do you _have_ to be so bloodthirsty?" complained Truesdale.

"I don't want to kill anybody," declared the girl; "maybe we could just
disable the cruiser."

"Aw, kill your jets!" Brecken broke in. "I've been waiting for a chance
like this for years. Don't get any ideas!"

"But listen!" pleaded Donna. "It's a terrible thing, but if we don't do
it, we won't be safe on Mars ourselves; they'll land and set an epide