I think the dragon made you responsive to telepathy if I touch you. Get me a ship!
"Cadet Wells!" said Yobo. "Are you sane?"
"Most of the time, sir. And Norby is, too, some of the time. What we want is a small ship, just large enough to hold me and Norby."
"Why?"
"The idea is to move it past any security network Ing may have, and then fit it into his headquarters. I've been there, and I recognized it. He had it all draped in flags, but I could tell it was the main waiting room of the Old Grand Central Station. It had a museum smell about it, and I learned every inch of it when I used to visit it as a youngster. I know the transmit coordinates of the station, or at least Norby does because he memorizes transmit coordinates whenever he's been anywhere…"
"Cadet, you mean well," said Yobo, "but without a transmit it will take days to get to Earth, and with a transmit you wouldn't need a ship. You don't need a ship to make a trip to Earth. I've got the fleet itself ready to do it, but Ing threatens to blow up Manhattan if I as much as move a ship."
"That's just bluff."
"You're sure of that? You'd risk Earth's most renowned relic of ancient days, its most famous center of population, on your certainty?"
"The fleet would be noticed if it made a move, but one ship-one small ship-".
"Nonsense! It would be noticed, too. You should understand the efficiency of space detection, Cadet. You've been in the academy long enough for that."
"Please, Admiral," said Jeff. "Trust me. My robot is very good with machinery, and perhaps he can speed up one of your small ships and arrange to have it deflect the spy beams and move it right into the Grand Central waiting room."
"You're suggesting an impossibility," said Yobo, "unless…" He stared hard at Norby. Then he added, "Unless this-uh-barrel you clutch so tightly is by way of being a sorcerer. What about my private cruiser? Would that be small enough?"
"How small is it?"
"Small enough to hold just me, although you and your robot-barrel can squeeze in if you don't mind sleeping on the floor."
"Why would we have to sleep on the floor, sir?"
"Because you can "t have my private cruiser without me on it, and I sleep in the one bed. That's the privilege of rank, Cadet."
"Take you, sir?" Jeff leaned over Norby's hat and whispered, "Can you move the admiral along with the ship and us?"
Norby squeaked, "No! Look at the size of him!"
Yobo heard that and smiled. "I'm not exactly stunted, but I am not going to sit here helpless. I've had enough of this whole thing. If you can get a ship into Grand Central Station, Cadet, I want to be with it. If anything happens to me, there are several good men-in their own estimation, if in no one else's-any one of whom could succeed me at once."
Jeff said promptly, "Norby, you can do it. Don't let me hear any negatives. Admiral, you can come, but let me be in temporary command."
"Cadet Wells," said Yobo with a grim smile, "you are more like your brother than I would have imagined. But before we make a move, you're going to tell me exactly how you expect to move the ship to Earth. Any ordinary movement and we'll be lost-and you know it."
Jeff thought awhile. "Admiral," he said, "will you give me your word that what I am about to say will be held in strictest confidence?"
"That's an impertinent request," Yobo said. "Any information you have that is of importance to system security should be delivered at once and without restrictions. What do you mean 'strictest confidence?"
Jeff said miserably, "Well, sir, Norby can move us through hyperspace without a transmit."
"Indeed? I rather suspected you had something like that in mind, since nothing else would accomplish what you plan to do. And how does Norby bring about this impossibility?"
"I don't know. And he doesn't, either."
"After this is over, shouldn't he be taken apart so that we can find out the secret of hyperspatial travel?"
Norby squawked. "Jeff, have nothing to do with this oversize monster. He's as bad as that dragon."
"What dragon?" asked Yobo.
"Just a mythical monster, sir. But that's why I want the information held confidential. If it's found out, all the scientists would want to take him apart, and they still might not find out, and then we might not be able to put him together again, and we would end up with nothing."
"We would kill the goose that lays the golden eggs," whispered Norby angrily. "Tell him that, Jeff. Only make it a more intelligent bird. "
Jeff nudged Norby into silence. "As it is, Admiral, Norby would make an important secret weapon for the Federation. He has all sorts of powers that he can handle with perfect ease-almost."
"Very well, but why aren't we taking a squadron of armed men and a battle cruiser, then?"
"Well, Admiral, Norby's powers are, for the moment, somewhat limited."
The admiral laughed. "You mean he's a small robot and can only handle small things."
"You are not a small thing, you overgrown human, you!" shouted Norby.
The admiral laughed again. "I suppose I'm not. But let's go ahead, you undergrown barrel, you. I'll have my personal cruiser made ready."
An hour later they were on the cruiser, and Norby had plugged himself into the ship's engine. "I don't promise I can make this work," he grumbled. "Getting an entire ship with me through hyperspace is no small task."
"You can do it, Norby," Jeff said.
"Me? An undergrown barrel?"
"Yes, you. An ancient, intelligent, very brave, and powerful robot," said Jeff. " And if you don't, I will take out your works and fill your barrel with peanut butter-rancid peanut butter, so that the dragon-mother won't notice the nail smell anymore."
The jump through hyperspace was not quite perfect.
"We're not inside Grand Central," said Jeff.
"Well, there it is, right ahead," Norby said indignantly. "You have to allow for a little slippage. Ask any engineer."
"This will do fine," said the admiral. "We just require a tiny normal space correction."
Two seconds later, the admiral's personal cruiser was hovering on an antigrav beam in the air above Ing's throne. The ship was draped in flags, and a window behind it was smashed.
"Brilliant, Admiral," said Jeff. "Brilliant."
Norby groaned. "It was my hyperspatial jump, and it's my antigrav beam. I'm the one who's brilliant, only I don't know how long I can hold the ship up. My insides feel as if they're caving in."
Let the admiral get some credit, Norby, Jeff said telepathically. Rank has its privileges.
"Now hear this!" The admiral's bass voice rolled out across the vastness of the room. Ing himself, his mask still in place, was standing next to his throne looking up at the ship. He made no sound. His soldiers stood as if in a trance, stunned by the appearance of the ship.
"We have all of you under our guns," said Admiral Yobo, touching a button so that at least one gun extruded from the hull and aimed itself directly at Ing. "Put down your weapons and surrender. There will be no Solar Empire and no Emperor."
The ship settled slowly upon the throne, smashing it. Jeff heaved a sigh of relief.
Ing ran for the transmit.
"Stop him!" Jeff cried.
"We don't want to kill him," the admiral said, "or they'll make a heroic martyr out of him. Let's see, now, I might be able to destroy the transmit, but that might-"
"Let me out, Jeff," said Norby. "I'll do it."
The admiral, coming to an instant decision, touched another button, and a panel opened. "Get him, little robot!" he cried.
Norby hurtled out and aimed himself at Ing, but the transmit doors were opening and Ing was almost there.