"I was lucky."
"You sat in the regular pilot's chair as it hit?"
"Sure, I—" then his eyes narrowed and he shut his mouth.
"Too late," said Brave grimly. "You gave yourself away. You aren't so clever as you're supposed to be."
"Whaddaya mean?"
"For a superman, you're too slow on the trigger. We got into that disk before they clamped a security ring around it. We saw what happened to the chair. No human could have missed being sliced down the brisket by that juggernaut that came through the control board."
"You clever, clever little bastards," said Grady venomously. "You'll be dealt with." For the first time he seemed angered at the wire that held him. He threw his weight against it, but it held firm. He glared at each of them, and Rob Pope said, "He's trying hypnotism; watch yourselves."
Mariner chuckled. "He can't affect me, I'm too fat. The thought waves get lost."
Brave did not even feel the tentative vibrations of the pilot's mind, but he glanced at Alan and saw that his friend was sweating. "You okay, guru?" he asked anxiously.
"He's talking to me." Alan's face cleared. "But I'm not going under. I believe your treatment did the trick, Brave."