Well before noon the last kilogram of impalpable, purplish-blue powder was put into its impermeable sack. The machinery was cleaned; the untouched leaves, the waste, and the contaminated air were blown out of the space port; and the room and its occupants were sprayed with anti-thionite. Then and only then did the crew remove their masks and air filters. Trenco Space Port was again a patrol post, no longer a zwilnik's paradise.
"Thanks, Tregonsee, and all you fellows——" Kinnison paused, then went on, dubiously, "I don't suppose that you will——"
"We will not," declared Tregonsee. "Our time is yours, as you know, without payment; and time is all that we gave you, really."
"Sure—that and about a thousand million credits' worth of thionite."
"That, of course, does not count, as you also know. You have helped us, I think, even more than we have helped you."
"I hope that I have done you some good, anyway. Well, I've got to flit. Thanks again. I'll see you sometime, maybe." And again the Tellurian Lensman was on his way.
XXIV.
Kinnison approached Star Cluster AC 257-4736 warily, as before; and as before he insinuated his speedster through the loose outer cordon of guardian fortresses. This time, however, he did not steer even remotely near Helmuth's world. He would be there too long; there was altogether too much risk of electromagnetic detection to set his ship into any kind of an orbit around that planet. Instead, he had computed a long, narrow, elliptical orbit around its sun, well inside the zone guarded by the maulers. He could compute it only approximately, of course, since he did not know exactly either the masses involved or the perturbing forces; but he thought that he could find his ship again with an electro. If not, she would not be an irreplaceable loss. He set the speedster, then, into the outward leg of that orbit and took off in his new armor.
He knew that there was a thought-screen around Helmuth's planet, and suspected that there might be other screens as well. Therefore, shutting off every watt of power, he dropped straight down into the night side, well clear of the citadel's edge. His flares were, of course, heavily baffled; but even so he did not put on his brakes until it was absolutely necessary. He landed heavily, then sprang away in long, free hops, until he reached his previously selected destination: a great cavern thickly shielded with iron ore and fully five thousand miles from his point of descent. Deep within that cavern he hid himself, then searched intently for any sign that his approach had been observed. There was no such sign. So far, so good.