y who the
Captain of the guards should be. All the sentries knew was the insignia
of the Captain was before them and the man who wore them was to be
obeyed.

His orders sent a chill of alarm through them. He said he had received a
report of someone slipping through the guards and moving among the cargo
ships. Since the soldiers were needed to patrol, he wanted these men to
gather all the warship guards together and search the area of the cargo
ships.

In answer to the question in their eyes, he said he knew the warships
would be unguarded but he was ordering a special detail to replace them
immediately.

The four dispersed and, in a few minutes, all of the lock guards had
left their posts and were moving down to the cargo ships.

Time was the critical element now. Aron had taken a terrific chance by
donning the Captain's uniform, but he had pulled off the bluff and now
he had to capitalize on it--fast!

While the ship sentries were on their futile search, he ran from ship to
ship, jumped into the open airlocks and worked quickly with pliers and a
screwdriver. It was a little trick that he had learned from a talkative
spaceman in a bar many years ago. It worked on any ship. Disconnect a
tiny spring, cut a wire, and it was impossible to close the massive
airlock door.

Aron wanted very badly to have those doors stay open.

Twenty-seven ships, hundreds of feet apart. He was on his last five when
the search was abandoned and the sentries began returning. He hoped they
would react normally, taking their time, dragging their feet and talking
to each other in disgust about the wild goose chase.

On the last two ships he had to use different tactics. The sentinels had
returned. When he walked up to them, they came to attention sullenly,
waiting the chance to deride the usual stupidity of the soldiers and
their Captain.

Instead, they had their throats cut.

Finishing the last airlock, Aron then walked through the post. Right up
the main street he strode, his heart in his throat but his step and
demeanor firm. The time of night helped him, for there were few soldiers
about that might recognize him, and what few patches of light were
thrown out from windows and doors were quickly swallowed by the black
maw of darkness.

Up the main street, past the barracks, towards the last warehouse at the
head of the valley. The two pillars of rock that marked the opening of
the canyon served as a background for the massive blan