They were out in space. The black shape of the Vulcan swung behind them, dwindling. It looked inert and ghostly. It looked a dead ship, with no sign of the conflict that was raging inside.
Ray turned the escape boat sharply left, away from the sun, and set the drive for Earth. Behind them the Vulcan was fading into blackness off to one side of Sol. Now and then a pale gleam touched the dark sides as it swung sluggishly.
It was all the escape ship could do to gain steady acceleration against the mighty pull behind them. For a while Ray nursed the tiny converter along, till he was sure the drive was winning. Then he joined Ellenor in the cramped little mid-section.
Her brown hair was combed back, starkly outlining the pale face. Her brown eyes were large, underneath one of them was the ugly bruise from Lodar's hand.
"We're loaded down with loot," Ray growled disgustedly. "Let's hope there's grub enough to see us to Earth."
He stared sharply as she remained huddled silently. She was holding the envelope which McVane had given. As he sat down beside her she passed him a sheet of paper. He recognized McVane's untidy scrawl.
"Lodar always wanted to end in a blaze of glory," he read, "so this idea was O.K. with him, too." Ray stared, puzzled.
The girl raised her hand, showing him the two matches that had been wrapped in the note. They were both unbroken!
"Why," Ray gasped, "that means—"