filled the passageway through the slit in
the rapidly closing hatch. The yacht rocked on her base like a tree in
a gale, as the hatch slammed shut.

"What in hell was _that_?" I yelped.

"Just a low yield nuclear blast," Redman said. "About two tons. Those
lads won't bother us any more."

"You fool!--you stupid moronic abysmal fool!" I said dully. "You're
not content to get Abie on our heels. Now you've triggered off the
whole Galactic Patrol. Don't you know that nuclear weapons are
banned--that they've been banned ever since our ancestors destroyed
Earth--that their use calls for the execution of the user? Just where
do you come from that you don't know the facts of life?"

"Earth," Redman said.

* * * * *

It left me numb. Any fool knew that there was no life on that
radioactive hell. Even now, spacers could see her Van Allen bands
burning with blue-green fire. Earth was a sterile world--a horrible
example, the only forbidden planet in the entire galaxy, a galactic
chamber of horrors ringed with automatic beacons and patrol ships to
warn strangers off. We Martians, Earth's nearest neighbor, had the
whole history of that last suicidal war drummed into us as children.
After all, we _were_ the cradle of Galactic civilization even though
we got that way by being driven off Earth--and feeling that almost any
place would be better than Mars. Mars iron built the ships and powered
the atomics that had conquered the galaxy. But we knew Earth better
than most, and to hear those words from Redman's lips was a shock.

"You're a damn liar!" I exploded.

"You're entitled to your opinion," Redman said, "but you should know
the truth when it is told to you. I _am_ from Earth!"

"But--" I said.

"You'd better get out of here," Redman said, "your Patrol will be here
shortly."

I was thinking that, too. So I wiggled my way up to the control room,
braced myself against the walls and fired the jets. Acceleration
crushed me flat as the ship lifted and bored out into space.

As quickly as I could, I cut the jets so the Patrol couldn't trace us
by our ion trail, flipped the negative inertia generator on and gave
the ship one minimal blast that hurled her out of sight. We coasted at
a few thousand miles per second along the plane of the ecliptic while
we took stock.

Redman had wedged himself halfway into the control room and eyed my
cramped body curiously. "It's a good thing you're a runt," he