ur sector." Rostoff added softly, "One has
to approach quite close before any signs of battle are evident. The ship
looks intact."

Demming opened his eyes again and said, "And you're going to capture
it."

Don Mathers bolted his tequila, licked a final drop from the edge of his
lip. "And why should that rate the most difficult decoration to achieve
that we've ever instituted?"

"Because," Rostoff told him, his tone grating mockery, "you're going to
radio in reporting a Miro class Kraden cruiser. We assume your superiors
will order you to stand off, that help is coming, that your tiny Scout
isn't large enough to do anything more than to keep the enemy under
observation until a squadron arrives. But you will radio back that they
are escaping and that you plan to attack. When your reinforcements
arrive, Lieutenant, you will have conquered the Kraden, single-handed,
against odds of--what would you say, fifty to one?"

* * * * *

Don Mathers' mouth was dry, his palms moist. He said, "A One Man Scout
against a Miro class cruiser? At least fifty to one, Mr. Rostoff. At
least."

Demming grunted. "There would be little doubt of you getting the
Galactic Medal of Honor, Lieutenant, especially since Colin Casey is
dead and there isn't a living bearer of the award. Max, another drink
for the Lieutenant."

Don said, "Look. Why? I think you might be right about getting the
award. But why, and why me, and what's your percentage?"

* * * * *

Demming muttered, "Now we get to the point." He settled back in his
chair again and closed his eyes while his secretary took over.

Max Rostoff leaned forward, his wolfish face very serious. "Lieutenant,
the exploitation of the Jupiter satellites is in its earliest stages.
There is every reason to believe that the new sources of radioactives on
Callisto alone may mean the needed power edge that can give us the
victory over the Kradens. Whether or not that is so, someone is going to
make literally billions out of this new frontier."

"I still don't see ..."

"Lieutenant Mathers," Rostoff said patiently, "the bearer of the
Galactic Medal of Honor is above law. He carries with him an unalienable
prestige of such magnitude that ... Well, let me use an example. Suppose
a bearer of the Medal of Honor formed a stock corporation to exploit
the pitchblende of Callisto. How difficult would it be for him to
dispose of the stock?"