against our world. Therefore, in part as
penalty and in part as a reward to the men of the Grand Fleet, you will
be allowed to land during a period of two weeks. You will be armed. You
may confiscate, for yourself, anything of value you find. You are not
required to exercise restraint in your actions toward the people of
Kandar. They will be destroyed with their planet and no protests from
such criminals will be listened to. You will be landed in groups, each
on a fresh area of the planet. That is all._"

There was silence in the control room of the _Liberty_. After a long
time the Pretender said very quietly, "I will not live while such beasts
live. From this moment I will kill them until I am killed!"

"I suspect King Humphrey heard that," Bors said, and drew a deep breath.
"Combat alert!" he ordered crisply. "We're attacking the Mekinese fleet.
Handle your missiles smoothly and don't try to fire while we're in
overdrive! We'll be going in and out.... Choose your targets and fire as
we come out and while I count down. Overdrive point nine seconds. Five,
four, three, two, one!"

The cosmos reeled and stomachs retched when the _Liberty_ came out in
nine-tenths of a second. She was in the very midst of a concentration
of the Mekinese fleet. Missiles streaked away, furiously, as Bors
counted down. "Two-fifths second, five, four, three, two, one!"

More missiles shot away. Bors almost chanted, while with gestures toward
the radar-screen he picked out the objects near which breakout should
fall.

"Point oh five seconds." The ship went into overdrive and out. It seemed
as if the universe dissolved from one appearance to another outside the
viewports. "Five, four, three, two, one! Hold fire!"

The _Liberty_ came out a good ten thousand miles from its starting-point
and beyond the area occupied by the enemy fleet. Three thousand miles
away a flare burst among the distant stars. A second. A third. Six
thousand miles away there were flashings in emptiness.

"We're doing very well," said Bors calmly into the all-speaker
microphone. "A little more care with the aiming, though. And read your
ranges closer! They're not intercepting our missiles. We're not aiming
them right. We try it again now...."

The universe seemed to reel and one felt queasy, but there was work to
be done, while a voice chanted, "Five, four, three, two, one!" Then it
reeled again and the same voice continued to chant. Sometimes the crews
saw where miss