sive discomfort of going into and out of overdrive
at extremely short intervals would have an adverse effect on crew
morale. Under normal circumstances a ship might have been equipped, for
testing purposes, in six to ten years, and in ten years more all new
ships might be equipped. But it would be well over a generation before
its use was general.

The older man said, "Since your resignation's been accepted, you'll be
put on the _Sylva_ when it comes back. You won't be taken to Kandar with
the fleet."

Bors's hands clenched.

"They'll say I resigned to stay out of the fight!"

"No," said his uncle mildly. "They'll say you resigned to avoid
surrender. I'm being evicted with you. I'm to be dumped on the
hospitality of your friend, Morgan, too. Humphrey is a very kindly man.
Abominably so. But I am tired of being an exile. I'd really rather stay
with the fleet. But he stands on his dignity to preserve our lives. I'm
not sure what for, in a universe where such things as Mekin can happen."

"They happen," growled Bors, "because we value peace and quiet as much
as the Mekinese do power, and much less than freedom. We compromise."

He paced up and down.

"Up to now," he said harshly, "every effort made against Mekin has been
defensive. Twenty-two worlds, in turn, have fallen because they only
wanted to _stop_ Mekin. It's time for some world to resolve very solidly
to _smash_ Mekin, to act with honest anger against a thing that should
be hated. It's got to be done!"

"The time for such a resolution," said his uncle, gently, "went by long
ago."

There was sudden voice from the compartment speaker.

"_Co-o-o-ntact!_"

There was the hissing sound of doors closing. The peculiarly-muffled
silence of a closed compartment fell. The Pretender said quietly, "If
this is the Mekinese fleet, everything is solved. But your friends of
Talents, Incorporated will have to be wrong. They insist the grand fleet
will not come here."

Bors rasped, "I wish I were in that control room! But at least we've got
missiles they can't intercept!"

"Except that they won't be fired, they're a great improvement," the
Pretender said mildly.

He sat at ease. Time passed. Presently the tiny compartment
air-refresher hummed, bringing down the CO{2} content of the air. It cut
off. Bors paced up and down, up and down. He pictured what might be
happening outside. It could be that the grand fleet of Mekin had
appeared and now drove proudly toward Gl