ship is bugged. I put nothing beyond the Special Corps, and bugging their own ships seemed a logical precaution. A concealed radio, transmitting on a narrow band, would lead them right to me wherever I went. This I had to find out before getting near any planets.
There was a squeal and a growl from the speaker and I cursed my former employers. But before I wasted my time looking for a transmitter I ought to be sure one was there. Whatever was producing the signal seemed too weak to be picked up at any distance. Some quick work with a few sheets of shielding showed that my mysterious signal was nothing more than leaking radiation from the receiver itself. After it was shielded the ether was quiet. I enjoyed a sigh of justified satisfaction and dropped out of warp.
Once I had a course plotted the trip wasn’t a long one. I took the opportunity to scrounge through the ship’s equipment and put together a kit for future use. The elaborate makeup and appearance-alteration machinery begged to be used, and of course I did. Rebuilding the working-personality of Slippery Jim was a