I noticed suddenly that the palms of my hands were damp. That made me wonder. It wasn't so much that I was scared by the idea of going back to Earth with the Patrol. Something was wrong with the set-up somewhere, and I couldn't place it. Then it hit me. That ship out there was no Patrol cruiser--she was the Astra! My father's ship! It had been years ago and I was just a kid at the time, but there was no chance of a mistake--I had practically lived aboard that wagon all the while she was on the ways. That meant my father had found the hideout on Callisto again, and hadn't got away this time. The Astra had been captured and converted to a pirate ship. As for my father, there was no doubt now about what had happened to him. Lance Denby would never have been taken alive. These six men crossing the ground toward us were a bunch of Hassley's cutthroats. "Betty!" I yelled. "Shut the lock quick!" She threw me a startled look, but sprang to obey. It was too late. [Illustration: _"Shut the lock!" I yelled--but it was too late._] IV They were in. All big monkeys with their helmets peeled back, and every one with a blaster in his hand you could put your thumb in. They came in fast and fanned out to cover the room in a way that showed they knew their business, and the muzzles of their weapons never wavered an inch. I looked at Betty. She was quite pale. It didn't matter about the lock. We couldn't have kept them out anyway. I didn't have a chance to tell her so. The boss of the show spoke. "Over against the wall," he said. Quietly, but we went. It was that kind of voice. There was no tone to it, and not much volume. It reminded me of the noise we used to make by rubbing rocks together under water when we were kids. He grinned, exposing thirty or forty grayish teeth shaped like old-fashioned tombstones. His whole face was grayish and stony, with heavy brows and a thick jaw. The 20 cm blaster in his hand looked like a water pistol. I might have called it a slight case of acromegaly, but I was not interested in diagnosis at the moment. I was busy getting mad. That was easy enough with such a subject, but I didn't see what I was going to do about it. He followed us over to the wall, walking slowly, not cautiously, but as if he knew there was no need to hurry. "Where's the rest of the crew?" he asked. He looked at me. "That's all there is," I said. "There isn't any more." I didn't see any use in lying to him, but I didn't see any use in telling him the truth, and I would sooner lie to him than not. That's the way I felt about it. "Wise, huh?" he said. His expression didn't change. He didn't have any expression. He turned to Betty. "Where's the rest of the crew?" "There aren't any more. There's just the two of us." Good girl. She was going to back my play. If I had any play. I was trying, but looking at that face slowed my mind down into first gear. Back to me again. "Where's your ship?"