And I could feel things crumbling inside me. All the principles the Academy had built in, and love, and fear--remorse, friendship, bravery--none of it meant anything. They were things that human hearts and minds were capable of, but when yesterday's love is today's revulsion, when friends are deadly enemies, when all the world thinks of you as just another space bum--what then? I had the destiny of the System riding in the holds behind me, and nobody really knew or cared that I'd break my heart to keep it safe. They were my eyes, but they weren't altogether normal as I stared out of the control room screens at the waiting fleet. They kept their distances. They all had their launchers pointed at me, and on a few of the old T Class rack-mounts I could see the homing torps lying in wait on the flat upper decks. I went back to Pat's cabin. She was sitting up on her bunk, staring at me. Fire lay buried deep in her eyes, but she kept her face smooth. "Okay, Pat," I said. "Thorsten's got his crew in a globe around me. He wants this ship. Should I give it to him?" What I was saying didn't match my voice. I was tired, and mad, and I couldn't look at her. I could feel my lower teeth sliding back and forth against my upper ones. "No--I know you too well, Ash," she said. "Not the way you'd give it to him." She pushed herself up and stood in front of me. Her eyes kept getting wider and wider. "Ash! You're crazy. If you think you can fight your way out of this--" her voice broke. "You know you don't have a chance. I've seen Harry's fleet in action. This is one ship, Ash--_one ship!_" * * * * * Her entire body was radiating urgency. She was standing stiff-legged, every muscle quivering, trying to get her words through the desperate red haze that was building up in front of my eyes. I couldn't see her very clearly. But I could see her well enough to laugh at her. "Fight?" I said. "_Fight?_ I've had fighting--all the fighting I'm ever going to do. I've been fighting too much, too often. I had a name and a friend, once--and I had a girl, once, too. Now all I've got is a job, and some orders, and a conscience, maybe. No--I'm not going to fight." I threw back my head and laughed again. I reached out and grabbed her arm. "Come on--you're going to have a grandstand seat." I pulled her up the companionway and into the control room, and threw her into the co-pilot's seat. I pulled out my gun. "Reach for those controls," I said, "and I'll blow your hand off." She sat in the chair, her face gray, staring out at Thorsten's fleet. I reached over and switched the radio to Thorsten's frequency. "Thorsten!" "Yes. Holcomb?" His, too, wasn't quite the same voice it had been. It was even, clipped, used to commanding a crew that didn't enjoy being commanded. "I've got Pat," I said, keeping my gun on her. "Let's stick to relevancies, Holcomb. How much for the ship?" He'd given himself away! I could have laughed.