"This says I will," Ferris sneered, gesturing with the neutro. "And since you came snooping out here, I'll just take that new weapon of yours."
"It doesn't work any more."
"I'll take it anyway. Hand it over. Careful!"
Mark shrugged, tossed the box-like weapon to him. But his mind was racing. Ferris had the upper hand, all right, and he would get away with this if Mark didn't do something quick. Mark glanced around. They were in the control room, and he knew the Frequency Tuner was ready. He said:
"What about Brownell—Janus—the others?"
"What about 'em? They wanted to come out here, so let 'em stay. Yeah—for the next hundred years!"
"What about me?"
"You know, I think I'll just take you along—for a short distance, anyway."
Mark's voice was taunting. "Because you're not quite sure how to handle this Frequency control. You'll need me."
"And that's where you're wrong. I've studied it plenty. It's easy!"