se. Push the button, Jim."

"All I can do is set up for it, pet. Whether we...."

"We'll get there!" she blazed. "It's high time we got a break. _Punch_
it! _This_ time the ship's going to _Clamer_, if we have to all get out
and _push_ it there! Now punch that button!"

James pushed the button, glanced into his scanner, and froze; eyes
staring. He did not even whistle. Belle, however, did; with
ear-shattering volume. Garlock's mouth fell open in the biggest surprise
of his life. They were in the same galaxy!

All three had studied charts of nebular configurations so long and so
intensely that recognition of a full-sphere identity was automatic and
instantaneous.

Lola, head buried in scanner, had already checked in with the Port
Inspector.

"It _is_ Clamer!" she shrieked aloud. "I _told_ you it was time for our
luck to change, if we pulled hard enough! They are being invaded by
Ozobes and they did call for help and they didn't think we could
possibly get here this fast and we don't need to be inspected because
we're compatible or we couldn't have landed on Groobe!"

For five long minutes Garlock held the starship motionless while he
studied the entire situation. Then he drove a probe through the mental
shield of the general in charge of the whole defense operation.

"Battle-Cruiser _Pleiades_, Captain Garlock commanding, reporting for
duty in response to your S.O.S. received on Groobe."

The general, furiously busy as he was, dropped all other business. "But
you're _human_! You can't fight!"

"Watch us. You don't know, apparently, that the Ozobe bases are on the
far side of your moon. They're bringing their fighters in most of the
way in transports."

"Why, they can't be! They're coming in from all directions from deep
space!"

"That's what they want you to think. They're built to stand many hours
of zero pressure and almost absolute zero cold. Question: if we destroy
all their transport, say in three hours, can you handle all the fighters
who will be in the air or in nearby space at that time?"

"Very easily. They've hardly started yet. I appoint you Admiral-pro-tem
Garlock, in command of Space Operations, and will refer to you any other
space-fighters who may come. I thank you, sir. Good luck."

The general returned his attention to his boiling office. His mind was
seething with questions as to what these not-human beings were, how or
if they knew so much, and so on; but he forced them out of his mind