uldered figure ahead.

"Shut it off, Treb, will you?" Neilson shouted, turning. "Isn't it tough
enough without you yap-yapping all the way?"

Treb's lips thinned. The knife chafed his leg. Already he was limping
slightly. But they had covered more than half the distance. Once they
contacted the UN guards and were through the locks he could relax....

* * * * *

The circular outer face of the lock was before them. And the button that
summoned the guards jutted redly from a shoulder-high recess. Neilson
leaned against the lock, his narrowed eyes on Treb as he reached for the
button.

Treb jabbed. And he relaxed inwardly. Too late now for Neilson to
attempt overpowering him and claiming the victory. He had feared such an
attempt--with the lust for the woman, Jane Vanne, driving him, Neilson
might have gone back on his word.

It was tough going for the kid. But he wasn't losing anything worth
keeping. And hundreds of fine young lads like him might be spared going
through this ordeal in space. They'd....

Neilson's fist caught him behind the ear. That split-second of
inattention was proving costly. Neilson clamped the carbine barrel,
wrested it away from Treb. He raised it. Treb lifted his hands.

"So now it's me at the controls," Neilson said, grinning. "Any reason
why I should go through with your Hubble Award idea?"

"The guards will be here in no more than a minute, Harl. Throw the gun
away and we'll go through together."

Neilson's eyes were shining. He was seeing the crowds waving crazy
welcome as his space ship grounded. He was seeing the adulation of the
boys, and the adoring glance of the dark-eyed girl named Jane. He was
seeing the medals and the banquets and the bundles of money.

"You were crazy, Treb," he said, "to ever trust me. In war promises mean
nothing. Study your history."

Treb squared his shoulders, his hands came down.

"If that's the way it is," he said, and then, "coming at you, Neilson."

Neilson flinched. It was the first time Treb had called him by his last
name, perhaps that was the reason. Or it could have been the sight of an
unarmed man walking directly into his carbine's ugly muzzle.

He pressed the trigger. The unloaded weapon was silent. Treb wrenched at
the gun. Neilson kicked him in the crotch. The gun came free. He brought
it down at Treb's head, but at the last second before impact Treb
dodged. The barrel smacked into Treb's right shoulder