He said, "Very well, Smith. I accept. Give him the formula, Lady Alice."
Her answer was tense, vivid.
"No! No, Dan, don't trust him! He won't keep his promise. I know he won't!"
"We must take that chance." Grimly. "Tell him!"
The audio went dead. Mallory waited impatiently. Somewhere, lost in the immensity that engulfed them, the Libra surged through space on a mission now in the hands of the deadlocked three. So near that it was more sunlike than Sol, Jupiter swung in its titanic orbit about Man's luminary. The endless night was spangled with an infinitude of stars. The stars toward which Man, yearning, groped—while Man's feet still stumbled through the muck and mire of deceit....
And the audio woke to life again. Smith's voice was triumphant. "Very well, Lieutenant. I am satisfied. I have finished the demolition of power and arms units in this ship. Its radio, however, still operates. I think it will sustain life for you until your friends arrive. I am ready to board your ship."
Lady Alice's cry broke in, "Be careful, Dan! He'll kill you! He—" There was the sound of flesh upon flesh, a silence. Then, "Well, Lieutenant?"
Dan said, "Come ahead."
"You will take your place," said Smith, "in the pilot's seat where I can see you from the moment I enter the lock. Put your hands above your head. Do not move or turn as I enter. If you do—"