"Maybe not, but there's two of them," Pedersen said drily. "I would imagine this changes things."
"Naturally. We'll run for awhile. I'm not risking my ship against those odds if I can help it." Fiske turned on the command circuit. "One eighty gyro turn," he said. "Execute!"
The "Dauntless" swapped ends and virtually without delay began backtracking across the warps of Cth space. Since inertia didn't exist in hyperspace the change in direction was made instantaneously. At maximum blast the "Dauntless" began to put space between her and her pursuers, who at once changed course to overtake the fleeing Confederation ship.
Hour after hour the three ships drove through the harsh blue monochrome of upper Cth, and slowly the distance between pursuers and pursued lessened. Travelling in a great curve that would ultimately take them into Confederation territory Fiske and Pedersen watched the telltale dots in the spotting tank come closer.
"We're not going to make it," Fiske said finally. "They'll catch or pass us before we hit the frontier."
"Nice," Pedersen replied. "With one ahead matching our component and sowing mines, and the other behind and above us just in case we try to drop out. We've got about the same chance as a snowball in hell."
"It's not quite that bad. We have weapons and we've got the broadcaster. They won't be expecting it, and if we drop into normal space looking like we want to fight, I'll bet they'll follow us."
"Sure they will."
"They'll get a surprise then. How'd you like to be wearing one of those cute little communicators and get a blast of Bordoni's progressive squirm the minute you made breakout?"