I said, "Well, then, golly—let's lift the Saturn out of here! Beat it out into space, and stop the Fleet—?"
But Biggs shook his head.
"No—I have a better plan than that. Oh, Chief—" He called to Chief Engineer McMurtrie who, dripping with fuel oil and pride, was hobbling back toward the ship for a change of clothing—"nice work on that drill. Tell the men to cap the well for the time being. Did you get those metal poles I asked you for?"
"Yes, sorrr!"
"Good! And the silver?"
"About three tons of it, sorrr!"
"Silver?" broke in Hanson. "Three tons of it? Why, you must be talkin' about that specie shipment in the A-deck bins. You can't touch that, Lancelot. It ain't ours to use. It belongs to—"
"It belongs to humanity," declared Biggs. "No price is too high to pay for the overthrow of Steichner's crew."
He glanced at his wrist chrono.
"What time did you wire the Patrol, Sparks?"