"Did you ever operate a space ship?" she asked.
"No, but—"
She shook her head. "Besides, they have agents everywhere. My life isn't worth a counterfeit milliplatin. So I might just as well go to Pluto."
Barnard sprang to life as the detector signal glowed deep red. He leaped to the handles of the rocket jets, prepared to throw out a warning blast.
There was a pounding on the hull. "Open up, in there! It's the Space Police!"
"That's Lansfer's voice." Barnard hesitated at the lock. "That means we're safe—or does it? Is this ship ready to take off?"
"Yes—"
"Then—just on a hunch—get at the control board—"
He closed the inner door of the lock behind him before he opened the outer. No use silhouetting himself against the lighted interior.
Lansfer almost lost his poker face. "You! You'll get into trouble, Barnard, if you're not careful. What are you doing here?"