crambled and re-scrambled communicator,
"Majesty, I'm beginning to be less than despairing. If they expect our
ships either to have been destroyed aground, or to be made helpless the
instant combat begins, we may give them a shock. We hoped to smash them
ship for ship. Finding out their tricks in advance may give us that! And
if our missiles work as they've promised, we may get two for one!"

King Humphrey's voice was dogged. "_I will settle for anything but
surrender! From an honorable enemy I would take severe terms rather than
see my spacemen die. But I would do nobody any good by yielding to
Mekin!_"

Bors clicked off. He looked at a clock. The prediction from Talents,
Incorporated was that the Mekinese fleet would break out of overdrive at
11.19 hours astronomical time.

He went over his ship. His crew was by no means depressed. There had
been a terrific lift in spirits when dummy-warheaded missiles made
theoretic hits, though fifteen interceptors tried to stop them. The
crewmen now tended elaborately to explain the process. A part of the
trick was the curved path along which the re-set missiles flashed. Such
courses alone could never be computed by an unwarned enemy under battle
conditions. But the all-important thing was that the missiles changed
their acceleration as they drove. That couldn't be solved and the
solution put into practice during one fleet-action. Once the enemy had
experienced it, they could later duplicate it without doubt, but it
would still be impossible to counter.

So Bors's men were cheerful to the point of gaiety. They would fight
magnificently because they were thinking of what they would do to the
enemy instead of what the enemy might do to them. If enemy crews had
been assured that the fleet was half defeated before the fight began, to
find the fleet not crippled by spy-set devices would be startling. To
find them fighting like fiends would be alarming. And if--Bors grimly
repeated to himself, _if_--the modified missiles worked as well in
battle as in target practice....

He turned in and, despite his tensions, fell asleep immediately and
slept soundly. When he awoke he felt curiously relaxed. It took him a
moment to realize he had dreamed about Gwenlyn. He couldn't remember
what he had dreamed, but he knew it was comfortable and good. He
wouldn't let himself dwell on it, however. There was work to be done.

It was singularly like morning on a planet. The ship was spotless,
immacu