w minutes later, he stepped back, examining his work. Then, he
nodded and removed another instrument from his tool kit. He focused it
on the ship's port, flicked a switch on his belt, then snapped the
instrument on.

For a few seconds, nothing happened, then there was a grinding screech
of tortured metal, and the port swung open.

As Lanko stepped inside, he examined the control room with care. At
last, satisfied that no booby traps were set, he crossed to the control
panel. He located the communicator controls, and picked up the
microphone.

"All's well, Ban," he reported. "Ease off."

He watched as the overloaded generator recovered. When the needles were
at normal readings, he flicked the screen controls off, then picked up
the microphone again.

"Haul out, Banasel," he ordered. "I'm going to fix this can up again,
close the port, run up the screens, and wait for our boy to come home.
Like to talk to him."

* * * * *

The sportster had a well stocked galley. Lanko ate with enjoyment,
studying the tapes he had found interestedly. Finally, he pushed the
last reel aside, then sat back to gaze at the wall.

A low tone sounded, and the viewscreen activated. Lanko nodded to
himself, then went to the control room aperture, turning off the alarm
as he went through. A few strides took him to the entry port, where he
waited, weapon in hand.

The door swung open and Lanko touched his trigger. The newcomer's screen
flared briefly, then collapsed. Lanko stepped forward, examining his
prisoner.

He was humanoid. There were some differences from the usual type
encountered on the planet, but they were not serious. He could have
passed in most of the Galankar, if not anywhere. Some might even be
attracted by his slightly unusual appearance. Lanko drew him into the
ship, and closed the port.

He took his time, making a complete search of the captive's clothing,
and removing equipment and weapons. At last, he drew back, satisfied
that the being was harmless. He waited. It wouldn't be too long before
the business could begin.

As the paralysis effect wore off, the man on the floor flexed his
muscles, then got to his feet. Lanko watched him, his weapon resting on
his knees. As the man tensed to spring, Lanko raised the weapon a
little.

"You are Genro Kir?"

"Who are you? What's the idea?" Kir reached for his belt, then dropped
his hand again as he found nothing there.

"Resident Guard