the desk his eyes
bulged and he just gurgled a little. Before he could recover I threw a
thick folder in front of him.

"I am Admiral Thar, League Grand Fleet. These are my credentials. You
had better check them." Since they were as good as any real admiral's I
didn't worry in the slightest. Ferraro went through them as carefully as
he could in his rattled state, even checking the seals under UV. It gave
him time to regain a bit of control and he used it to bluster.

"What do you mean by entering my private quarters and burglaring--"

"You're in very bad trouble," I said in as gloomy a voice as I could
muster.

Ferraro's tanned face went a dirty gray at my words. I pressed the
advantage.

"I am arresting you for conspiracy, extortion, theft, and whatever other
charges develop after a careful review of these documents. Seize him."
This last order was directed at the robot who was well briefed in its
role. It rumbled forward and locked its hand around Ferraro's wrist,
handcuff style. He barely noticed.

"I can explain," he said desperately. "Everything can be explained.
There is no need to make such charges. I don't know what papers you have
there, so I wouldn't attempt to say they are all forgeries. I have many
enemies you know. If the League knew the difficulties faced on a
backward planet like this...."

"That will be entirely enough," I snapped, cutting him off with a wave
of my hand. "All those questions will be answered by a court at the
proper time. There is only one question I want an answer to now. Why are
you building that battleship?"

* * * * *

The man was a great actor. His eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped, he
sank back into the chair as if he had been tapped lightly with a hammer.
When he managed to speak the words were completely unnecessary; he had
already registered every evidence of injured innocence.

"What battleship!" he gasped.

"The Warlord class battleship that is being built at the Cenerentola
Spaceyards. Disguised behind these blueprints." I threw them across the
desk to him, and pointed to one corner. "Those are your initials there,
authorizing construction."

Ferraro still had the baffled act going as he fumbled with the papers,
examined the initials and such. I gave him plenty of time. He finally
put them down, shaking his head.

"I know nothing about any battleship. These are the plans for a new
cargo liner. Those are my initials, I recall put