Nordsen, and Carmody backed off from it.

"The _Cosmos XII_ is still two-thirds fueled," Lance said. "And
well-stocked on provisions. Besides, I'm a light eater in hyperspace--as
who isn't? I intend to take that ship out again, and you're going to
help me, gentlemen."

Lance flicked off the safety and waved the gun back and forth, to
demonstrate what he meant.

* * * * *

It worked.

Lance got his ship, using Colonel Sagen as both shield and go-between
after he had first tied up the other two officers in a closet. He kept a
close watch, of course, for the SSP's and their gas pellets; but
apparently an alarm was not raised soon enough for the base police to
hurl into action.

After having the colonel authorize a space clearance for him by
contacting Traffic directly over the ship's mike, Lance finally released
him.

The colonel scooted down the ladder. Lance gave him time to clear the
pad, but little more; then he went to work pushing buttons on the manual
desk. The _Cosmos XII_ blasted loose from her moorings and soared aloft
into space.

At five thousand miles above Earth's surface, Lance re-checked his
tapes. Groombridge 34 was the only possible destination the autopilot
could take him to. Somehow, he didn't mind taking one more look at the
double-star system. He cut into hyperspace as quickly as he dared; then
sat back and relaxed. That is, as much as any man could in hype.

When he reached Groombridge 34, all Lance did was pop out into normal
space long enough to assure himself he had reached the proper checkpoint
for turning back. The tapes were in good order, and there had been no
hitches. Grunting, he threw in the switch-over and once more found
himself plowing through hyperspace. Only this time, he was homeward
bound.

If he were lucky, just real lucky, he told himself, there might be a
Carolyn Sagen alive and waiting for him in whatever time-track he wound
up in this time.

At last, he materialized again in the Solar System. Or _some_ Solar
System, anyhow. As far as he could tell, all the planets looked
unchanged. It was just four weeks to the day, since his escape from
World Two. This would be World Three. He had been gone eight weeks and
two days from World One.

Lance cut the ecliptic at a different angle than before, and Terra was
farther along in her journey around Sol. He needed a new landing
trajectory. His eye swept his panel, to see if anything had been p