led himself last night," Jezef said.

Tulan remembered the agony in the old Minister of War's eyes when he'd
voted for surrender. Grefen had been Admiral in his day; the prototype
of integrity and a swift sledgehammer in a fight; and Tulan's first
combat had been under him. A symbol of the Fleet, Tulan reflected; and
his death, yes, that too was a symbol--what was there but shame in
surrender, for a man or a fleet or a world?

His hand clenched, crumpling the paper it was resting on. He smoothed
the paper and re-read the order he'd been writing. He visualized the
proud ranks of his crewmen, reduced to ragged lines shuffling toward
prison or execution.

It seemed impossible, against the laws of nature, that men should strive
mightily and win, then be awarded the loser's prize. His anger began to
return. "I've a mind to defy the Government and only take skeleton
crews," he said. "Leave the married men, at least."

Jezef shrugged. "They'd only be bundled into transports and sent after
us."

"Yes. Damn it, I won't be a party to it! All they did was carry out
their orders, and superbly, at that!"

Jezef watched him with something like curiosity. "You'd disobey the
Council? You?"

Tulan felt himself flush. "I've told you before, discipline's a
necessity to me, not a religion!" Nevertheless, Jezef's question wasn't
unfair; up to now it really hadn't occurred to him that he might
disobey.

His inward struggle was brief. He grabbed the whole pad of orders and
ripped them across. "What's the Council, with Grefen gone, but three
trembling old men? Get some guns manned, in case they get suspicious and
try to interfere."

Blood began to surge faster in his veins; he felt a vast relief. How
could he have ever seen it differently? He jabbed at a button. "All
ships' Duty Officers; scramble communication circuits. This is the
Admiral. Top Secret Orders...."

* * * * *

Shortly before noon the four-hundred-odd ships lifted out of Sennech's
frosty atmosphere, still ignoring the furious demands from the radio.
Fully armed, they couldn't be stopped.

Tulan's viewer gave a vivid picture of the receding fifth planet. The
white mantle of ice and snow was a backdrop for blue artificial lakes
and the dark green of forest-strips (hardy conifers from Teyr)
alternated with the lighter shades of surface farms. The ice had been
almost unbroken until men came, bringing more heat than Sennech had ever
rec