They fell an easy prey to the five sleek patrol craft which plummeted down on them three hours later.
The short Jovian day was on the wane when the Nova began to gather substance like a tenuous cloud. Her misty outlines grew solid. Then the port opened. Gavin Murdock appeared in the entrance.
Commandant Samuels, a grizzled veteran of the T.I.S., was the first man up the gangplank. He shook Gavin's hand. "Nice work, Murdock. But it smacks damnably of witchcraft."
The Flight Commander was right behind him, followed by the captains of the Empire's patrol spacers. The Flight Commander caught sight of two of Y's men lying unconscious just within the port.
"What the hell's this? The palace of the sleeping beauty?"
"You haven't seen the half of it," Gavin assured him with a grin. "They're lying all over the ship like that. Villanowski says the effects last about an hour. Better lock them up before they come to."
"Villanowski?" echoed the T.I.S. Commandant. "He's not dead, is he?"
"No," said Gavin, surprised at the anxiety in the Commandant's voice.
"Good!" growled Samuels. He lowered his voice to a subdued roar. "Ticklish mission. I'm supposed to persuade him to accept a post on the Empire's Bureau of Research. They're afraid his space drive will fall into wrong hands. But Villanowski's such an embittered old goat, he'll probably...."
There was a faint chuckle behind Gavin.