In the screens, he watched the spheres of hydrazine and nitric acid, hurled from the ship by spring action, go drifting slowly away into the void. In effect, the By Jove! was now a voiceless derelict.
Albrekt went below.
"This means that I intend to stand for no more foolishness," he said harshly when he had told the others what he had done. "If you prefer, you may draw lots to decide which two I shall kill and which one shall have the pleasure of my company for the rest of the trip. The continued existence of all three of you will depend strictly on your good behavior."
Migl, lolling on a bunk, curled a sardonic lip at him.
"You seem to have gone to a great deal of unnecessary trouble, ladrón," he said. "It is still worth the risk of at least one of our lives to destroy or capture you."
"You're wrong, Migl," said Carrel soberly. "Now we have no fuel, we have no radio. The ship is in orbit, and we're helpless to change it. No matter what we do aboard, the Flanjo ship will intercept us. The Flanjos will destroy us then if they don't find Albrekt alive and safe."
"An accurate analysis," agreed Albrekt briskly. "You're showing good sense now, Carrel."
Carrel shrugged and spread his hands. Albrekt felt a little sorry for him in defeat. He admired Carrel's bravery and resourcefulness.
Albrekt's sleep that night was more carefree than it had been since the By Jove! pulled free from its satellite orbit around Mars. There was still danger, of course. He had to be on the alert for a desperate attempt to disarm him, or an effort to overcome him in the control room by tampering with the ship's machinery, despite Carrel's surrender. But it was less likely now.