The prisoner opened his mouth. Dyann laid a friendly hand on the back of his neck and squeezed a little.
"Yes, yes, the laboratory ship—practice maneuvers—hurry!" the man said.
"Aye, sir! At once!" A life time's training in blind obedience spoke there, behind the puzzled faces.
A teardrop-shaped rocket was trundled forth. Dyann looked nervously back at the door. Pursuit was most likely playing it safe, posting men outside while others went around to block all remaining exits. Once that was done they'd close in.
"I'll warm up the engine for you, sir," said one of the mechanics.
"Ve'll take it now," said Dyann.
"But you can't! You'll carbon the tubes—be likely to crash—"
"I said now." Dyann propelled her captive ahead of her through the airlock and Urushkidan crawled after. The valves clanged shut after them.
"I hope you can fly vun of these thins," said Dyann, lashing the secret policeman to a recoil chair.
"I hope so too," said Urushkidan.