It was difficult to separate various concepts and orient herself to a present where and when.

Slowly the soft susurrus background song of the big wheel penetrated consciousness, and another, closer roar. Millie taking a shower, she realized.

Suddenly she came out of the vagueness wide awake, the hangover cleared magically, evaporating much too quickly to have been caused by alcohol.

But she had been tied up to a chair on the bridge beside Nails, prisoner of the Security men, only minutes ago.

WHAT was going on?

Millie stepped out of the shower into the compartment the two girls occupied, and smiled.

"How're you doing? About to come out of it?"

"Da, Da eta--" with an effort Bessie switched to English. "Explosion?

What happened?"

"Oh, Mike just had to get the Security men off guard. Something to do with the air supply. He asked me to apologize to you if you don't feel so good. But after all, we got the Lab back and that's the main thing."

"Security. Oh! I've got to get to Nails right away. They've taken over Earth, too, you know. We've got to make sure they don't get control of the projects. We'll be shot of course. But their ambitions rest on having control of Hot Rod and the wheel. Probably secret control--"

"But--"

"Nails has got to figure out how to destroy the project without too many casualties. Maybe he can get some of our men back to Earth, though of course we're all expendable. We can't let these monsters have the wheel and Hot Rod! That's what they need for power--"

"Bessie--"

"Of course, we can stand and fight for as long as possible, but we're sitting ducks, and even with Hot Rod there's not much we can do--we can't fire on Earth, we'd hit friend as well as enemy. So I think we've just got to stand and fight a bit, and then destroy both Hot Rod and the wheel. Anyhow, that's Nails' decision, and I've got to get to Nails--"

"Whoa!" Millie finally managed to stem the flow. "We're not stuck--not just stuck here in orbit any longer, waiting to see what's going on on Earth," she said softly, "or what they're going to do about us 'mad scientists.' Mike and Ishie started this whole thing when one of their experiments turned out to be a s.p.a.ce drive, and the boys are working real hard on getting a drive unit set up capable of taking our whole complex out into s.p.a.ce. But they need somebody to tell the captain ...

uh ... properly ... as soon as he's awake that is ... uh ... you know what I mean."

"Whoa, yourself, girl. What's this--s.p.a.ce drive?"

"Well, they didn't find out themselves until after it had wiped out Thule Base--nearly ten hours after that, in fact. That magneto-ionic thing the Sacred Cow's been talking about--they invented that real quick to cover up. You see ... oh, it's too complicated.

"Look, we've got a real _s.p.a.ce_ drive. We can go to the moon or Mars--or Pluto if we want to. And we've got to let Nails know real quick that he can get us out of here--and without making him mad that we wrecked Thule Base. But really, after the way those Security goons acted, maybe he won't be mad if you handle it right. How about it?"

The hangover was disappearing magically. But this flow of information was nearly as bad.

A s.p.a.ce drive? Bessie knew she couldn't evaluate one way or the other on that. That would be Nails' problem.

But they were in a pickle, and it would be up to her to see that Nails didn't waste too much time evaluating things. Those Security men had been prepared to play real rough, and more of them were on their way up.

"Where is Nails?"

"The boys put him to bed. In his quarters. He got a dose of the same stuff that put you out. He ought to be coming to almost any time now.

And probably mad about the whole thing."

Instantly, Bessie was on her feet, flinging on clothes, and out down the corridor toward Nails' private stateroom.

It had been thirty-two hours since Major--General--whatever it was Elbertson--had been defeated on the bridge for the final time.

He and his men were now securely locked in one of the empty labs. The paralysis effect of the needle gun had probably worn off. Mike hadn't checked to find out.

Bessie and her relief operators were watching the prisoners through a video display on the Sacred Cow's console, and would report anything unusual that went on to Captain Andersen.

Mike, Ishie, Millie, Paul and Tombu had completed the new Confusor drive units, and they were nearly installed.

More time would be taken arranging the engineering quarters so that the installation of her control panel and the units themselves would be completed.

This part, Mike didn't like too well. It meant re-arranging his already carefully arranged units, and considerable re-wiring without interfering with any of the basic functions of the wheel.

The new units had turned out to look very little like the original.

Fourteen feet long by eighteen inches outside diameter, they looked very much like a group of stove-pipes arranged in a circular pattern around the engineering quarters, braced from wall to wall.

The control console itself, even though made rapidly, had the look of a carefully planned and well-made unit; something that might have turned up in one of Earth's better R&D labs, as part of a multi-million dollar project.

All together, the drive rods would provide something better than a tenth of a gee thrust for the combined ma.s.s of the wheel, Hot Rod, the pile and the other subsidiary units around them.

A tenth of a gee. Not enough to land on Earth; but with things down there the way they were now, who wanted to?

With these units, the whole storehouse of the solar system was at their disposal.

With these units they could reach the asteroids.

With these units, they could range as far out as Pluto without fear of consequences--without, Mike added to himself, even the fear of radiation that was a constant threat to them here, for the farther from the sun they went, the less radiation they would have to endure.

The three months would be extended. For those who needed it, better shielding could be found.

The system was theirs.

Possibly, also the stars beyond.

That, he reminded himself, if they could get these units installed before the scuttlebug arrived.

Undoubtedly, Earth Security had sent arms as well as men.

Where they were, not strictly on course, but still in a satellite-type orbit, they remained sitting ducks for any number of countermeasures that Earth might throw against them.

Once gone from this...o...b..t, there was not sufficient rocket-power on Earth to track them down.

If they took Hot Rod with them, there was no single weapon at man's command that could stop them. And take Hot Rod with them they would.

In his address to the ship's personnel this morning, Captain Nails had made it quite clear that they wanted no part of the plots and counterplots of Earth; that theirs was the job of scientists, not soldiers; that a path was open to them that they would follow.

Later, they could return. Later, with the supplies that were free to be taken from s.p.a.ce, they could build strength.

They could return quietly, one by one, two by two, at times and places of their own choosing.