pecks darting out from that larger speck
which was the battleship. They came hurtling toward the _Isis_. Bors
counted them. A ship of the _Isis's_ class mounted eighteen
launching-tubes. She should be able to fire eighteen missiles at a time.
The Mekinese ship had fired nineteen. If the _Isis_ opened fire, by all
the previous rules of space-combat, she would need to use one missile to
counter every one of the battleship's, there would still be one left
over to destroy the _Isis_--unless she fired a second spread of
missiles, which was virtually impossible before she would be hit.

It was mockery by the skipper of the battleship. He was doubtless much
amused at the idea of toying with this small, insolent vessel. But Bors
did not try to match him missile for missile. He said evenly,

"Fire one. Fire two. Fire three. Fire four."

He stopped at four. His four missiles went curving wildly, in the
general direction, only, of the enemy.

* * * * *

On the planet Garen two shrieking objects came furiously to ground. Men
leaped swiftly out of them and trotted toward a small town, a
settlement, a group of houses hardly larger than a village. One man
delayed by each grounded space-boat, and then ran to overtake the
others. Local inhabitants appeared, to stare and to wonder. The two
landing-parties, ten men in each, did not pause. They swarmed into the
village's single street. There were ground-cars at the street-sides. The
men of the landing-parties established themselves briskly. One of them
seized a staring civilian by the arm.

"To hell with Mekin," he said conversationally. "Where's the
communicator office?"

"Wha--what--?"

"To hell with Mekin," repeated the man from the _Isis_, impatiently.
"Where's the communicator office?"

The civilian, trembling suddenly, pointed. Some of the landing-party
rushed to it. Four went in. There were the reports of blast-rifles.
Smoke and the smell of burnt insulation drifted out. Others of the
magically arrived men went methodically down the street, examining each
ground-car in turn. One of them cupped his hands and bellowed for the
information of alarmed citizens:

"Attention, please! We're from the pirate ship _Isis_. You have nothing
to fear from us. We're survivors of Mekin's invasion of Kandar. You will
please co-operate with us, and no harm will come to you. Your
ground-cars will be disabled so you can't report us. You will not be
punished fo