The simplified control panel resembled something that might have been manufactured in Earth factories half a century before. It had been obviously designed for the capabilities of the servant-pilot to whom it was assigned. If only she had the guts—
Cragin blasted off, and twisted the speed-control full on.
The Trespass Limit would shatter him, of course. Or within moments at least, the death which the Owners themselves controlled would seek him out. Unless....
He could not understand the symbols, but he knew the acceleration and velocity needles were going crazy—they were deep in a red-hued band and nearing its limit.
Even through the inverse inertia field, Cragin could feel the thrust of the terrible acceleration and then—
There was a click.
A hum which rose within seconds to a high shrill followed it and then another click came, another hum, then going up the scale.
Such sounds could be only from—COMPTOMETERS!
Cragin spun a telescreen control, a mad laughter welling from within him, bursting through his blood-flecked lips, shaking him uncontrollably. There was blackness! The gateway, gone—the great, star-like home of the Owners, vanished! Somehow, he was out!
A critical speed, and the comps going like crazy!