th by now. They would pick him up the
instant the ship landed. And the best he could hope for was a return to
Mars.

No, by God! He wouldn't go back to that frozen mud-ball! He'd stay on
Earth, where it was warm and comfortable and a man could live where he
was meant to live. Where there was plenty of air to breathe and plenty
of water to drink. Where the beer tasted like beer and not like slop.
Earth. Good green hills, the like of which exists nowhere else.

Slowly, over the days, he evolved a plan. He watched and waited and
checked each little detail to make sure nothing would go wrong. It
_couldn't_ go wrong. He didn't want to die, and he didn't want to go
back to Mars.

Nobody on the ship liked him; they couldn't appreciate his position. He
hadn't done anything to them, but they just didn't like him. He didn't
know why; he'd _tried_ to get along with them. Well, if they didn't like
him, the hell with them.

If things worked out the way he figured, they'd be damned sorry.

He was very clever about the whole plan. When turn-over came, he
pretended to get violently spacesick. That gave him an opportunity to
steal a bottle of chloral hydrate from the medic's locker.

And, while he worked in the kitchen, he spent a great deal of time
sharpening a big carving knife.

Once, during his off time, he managed to disable one of the ship's two
lifeboats. He was saving the other for himself.

The ship was eight hours out from Earth and still decelerating when
Clayton pulled his getaway.

* * * * *

It was surprisingly easy. He was supposed to be asleep when he sneaked
down to the drive compartment with the knife. He pushed open the door,
looked in, and grinned like an ape.

The Engineer and the two jetmen were out cold from the chloral hydrate
in the coffee from the kitchen.

Moving rapidly, he went to the spares locker and began methodically to
smash every replacement part for the drivers. Then he took three of the
signal bombs from the emergency kit, set them for five minutes, and
placed them around the driver circuits.

He looked at the three sleeping men. What if they woke up before the
bombs went off? He didn't want to kill them though. He wanted them to
know what had happened and who had done it.

He grinned. There was a way. He simply had to drag them outside and jam
the door lock. He took the key from the Engineer, inserted it, turned
it, and snapped off the head, leaving t