men each, equipped with small arms and light bombs. They listened to
such bits of broadcast information as came from the night beneath them.
Boat Number One picked up a news broadcast, and when it was finished,
the petty officer in command pulled free the tape that had recorded it
and tucked it in his pocket. There were items of interest on it.

* * * * *

The _Isis_ came to a stop in space. The battleship rose and rose. It did
not drive toward the _Isis_. There was a maximum distance beyond which
space-combat was impractical; beyond which missiles became mere blind
projectiles moving almost at random and destroying each other without
regard to planetary loyalties. There was also a minimum distance, below
which missiles were again mere projectiles and could not greatly modify
the courses on which they were launched.

But there was a wide area in between, in which combat was practical. The
Mekinese battleship reached a height where it could maneuver on
solar-system drive without rockets. It might, of course, flick into
overdrive and be gone thousands of millions of miles within seconds. But
that would be flight. It would not return accurately to the scene of the
fight. So overdrive could not be used as a battle tactic. It could be
used only for escape.

* * * * *

Near the planet, where the two space-boats floated, the dawnline
appeared at the world's edge. The space-boats swung about, facing
backward, and applied power for deceleration. They dropped into the
atmosphere and bounced out again, and in again--more deeply--and then
swung once more to face along their course. They began a long, shallow,
screaming descent from the farthest limits of the planet's atmosphere.

* * * * *

Out where the sun of Garen was a disk of intolerable brilliance and
heat, the battleship bumbled on its way. It would seem that its
commander scornfully accepted the _Isis's_ terms of combat and moved
contemptuously to the position where his weapons would be most deadly.
His ship's launching-tubes were at the ready. It should be able to pour
out a cloud of missiles. In fact, a sardonic voice came from the
battleship.

"_Calling pirate_," said the voice.

"Yes," said Bors.

"_If you wish to surrender--_"

"We don't," said Bors.

"_I was about to say_," said the sardonic voice, "_that it is now too
late._"

The radar-screen showed tiny s