As he gunned his plane northward through the night, Price thought of the roller-coaster when he'd been a kid, of how you went faster and faster until you hit the big plunge. Well, he was on the big plunge now. And what would end this roller-coaster ride—prison, or escape, or a crash? It had to be one of those. He was to remember that, later. He was to think later that it was well he didn't dream the fantastic fate he was really racing toward.... He looked down, and there was only blackness. The