Afterward, when the Government committee had left, congratulating us upon having won the allotment, and the IPS officials had departed like a trio of overgrown sunbeams on legs, Hanson, Todd, Diane, Biggs and I were alone in the control turret of the Saturn.
To the smiling First Mate, Cap Hanson said, "Biggs, this business of apologizin' to you after every crackpot adventure is gettin' monotonous. But I do it again—with the provision that you tell me how the hell an' what the hell happened."
Biggs fidgeted and looked uncomfortable.
"Well, to begin with, I knew we were licked if we tried to race the Slipstream in any normal fashion—"
"The proper word," I interjected, "is skunked."
"Yes. So when I saw what happened to the Slipstream when it fell into the vacuole, I saw a way in which we might possibly come out on top. I didn't want to explain, though, for if the method failed, Captain Hanson might be reprimanded for permitting the trial—"
"Method?" demanded Hanson. "What method?"
"Piggy-back!" grinned Biggs. "You'll remember that we commented on the amazing speed with which the vacuole was traveling through space. A speed greater than our own; even greater than that of the Slipstream.
"I purposely plunged the Saturn into the vacuole. The Slipstream, caught in that same sphere of hyper-space, made the mistake of back-dragging free. I let the vacuole carry us to Earth. It's as simple as that!"
Hanson said dazedly, "Simple? Which? The method or me? You done so many funny things—for instance, we got out of the vacuole without back-draggin'. How?"