ind a position of
safety, no more.

Quickly, he began scrambling toward the rear of the Ranger's hull,
hugging the metal sides, moving sideways like a crab. Ahead, he knew,
the viewscreen lenses would be active; if one of them picked him up, it
would be quite a jolt to the men inside the ship ... but it would be the
end of his free ride.

But the major peril was the blastoff. Once the engines cut off, the ship
would be in free fall. Then he could cling easily to the hull, walk all
over it if he chose to, with the aid of his boots and hand-pads. But
unless he found a way to anchor himself firmly to the hull during
blastoff, he could be flung off like a pebble.

He heard a whirring sound, and saw the magnetic mooring cables jerk. The
ship was preparing for blastoff. Automatic motors were drawing the
cables and grappling plates into the hull. Moving quickly, Tom reached
the rear cable. Here was his anchor, something to hold him tight to the
hull! With one hand he loosened the web belt of his suit, looped it over
a corner of the grappling plate as it pulled in to the hull.

The plate pulled tight against the belt. Each plate fit into a shallow
excavation in the hull, fitting so tightly that the plates were all but
invisible when they were in place. Tom felt himself pulled in tightly as
the plate gripped the belt against the metal, and the whirring of the
motor stopped.

For an instant it looked like the answer. The belt was wedged
tight ... he couldn't possibly pull loose without ripping the nylon
webbing of the belt. But a moment later the motor started whirring again.
The plate pushed out from the hull a few inches, then started back, again
pulling in the belt....

A good idea that just wouldn't work. The automatic machinery on a
spaceship was built to perfection; nothing could be permitted to
half-work. Tom realized what was happening. Unless the plate fit
perfectly in its place, the cable motor could not shut off, and
presently an alarm signal would start flashing on the control panel.

He pulled the belt loose, reluctantly. He would have to count on his
boots and his hand-pads alone.

He searched the rear hull, looking for some break in the polished metal
that might serve as a toehold. To the rear the fins flared out,
supported by heavy struts. He made his way back, crouching close to the
hull, and straddled one of the struts. He jammed his magnetic boots down
against the hull, and wrapped his arms around the