ort that an armed vessel had
inspected it in remoteness.

"We haul alongside," said Bors angrily. "Boarding-parties ready in the
space-boats."

Another wrenching flicker into overdrive and through breakout without
pause. The cargo-boat was within ten miles.

"Calling cargo-boat!" rasped Bors, in what would be the arrogant tones
of a Mekinese naval officer hailing a mere civilian ship. "Identify
yourself!"

A voice answered apologetically, "_Cargo-ship_ Empress, _sir, bound from
Loral to Mekin with frozen foods._"

"Cut your drive," snapped Bors. "Stand by for inspection! Muster your
crews. There's a criminal trying to get ashore on Mekin. We'll check
your hands. Acknowledge!"

"_Yes, sir_," said the apologetic voice. "_Obeying, sir._"

Bors fretted. The space-boats left the _Horus's_ side. One clamped onto
the airlock of the rounded, bulging tramp-ship. The second lifeboat
hovered nearby. The first boat broke contact and the second hooked on.
The second boat broke contact. Both came back to the _Horus_.

The screen before Bors lighted up. One of his own crewmen nodded out of
it.

"_All clear, sir_," said his voice briskly. "_They behaved like lambs,
sir. No arms. We've locked them in a cargo hold._"

"You know what to do now," said Bors.

"_Yes, sir. Off._"

Ten miles away the cargo-boat swung itself about. Suddenly it was gone.
It was on the way to Glamis and the fleet.

Another hour of watching. Another blip. It was another cargo-carrier
like the first. As the other had done, it meekly permitted itself to be
boarded by what it believed were mere naval ratings of the Mekinese
space-fleet, searching for a criminal who might be on board. Like the
first ship, it was soon undeceived. Again like the first, it vanished
from emptiness, and it would be heading for the fleet in its monotonous
circling of Glamis.

The third blip, though, was a light cruiser. The _Horus_ appeared from
nowhere close beside it and its communicator began to scream in
gibberish. It would be an official report, scrambled and taped, to be
transmitted to ground on the first instant there was hope of its
reception.

"Fire one," said Bors. "The skipper there is on his toes."

He watched bleakly as the _Horus's_ missile arched in its impossible
trajectory, as the light cruiser flung everything that could be gotten
out to try to stop it, while its transmitter shrieked gibberish to the
stars.

There was a blinding flash of light. Then