He sat upon the metal bunk, head heavy upon his hands. It was all over now. He had pled and sworn to no avail. His execution order had been filed. After the customary forty revs of grace, he would die. They would not even let him radio the Tele-news. Give up, his weary mind cried. At least death was better than Pluto. But he was so near home, his job completed. A priceless story would die with him. He felt fear no longer and his unreasoning rage had passed. There was only a great sadness, that he had come this far--to meet defeat. And at the hands of those whom he had sought. The man before his cell moved away. The guard was probably changing. Another patrolman approached, stared intently into the cage. "So you're Rusty Carter," he said. Rusty said nothing. No verbal torment could touch him. "I knew Carter once. He was a fine fellow then." Rusty looked up. He had never seen the man before. "Yeah," the guard continued, "Carter saved my reputation once--when I was caught in a bribery charge ten years ago, when I was on the ground force in New York." Rusty searched his mind. He remembered a civil bribery scandal the Tele-news had uncovered many years ago. Several of the accused had been released by his activities. But the man before him struck no chord of recognition. He was smiling. "You never knew me," he said, "but I knew you. I helped send you a medal when we were cleared, by your efforts. It's too bad you went wrong. Is there anything you want, in your last moments?" Rusty almost burst with joy. Was there anything he wanted! "Can you get a message through to Earth?" "If this is a trick, you won't live to see it done. I suppose I could--I know the radio operator." "Send this. Quick! To the New York Tele-news office. Tell them what's happened. Tell them to do something!" He waited for what seemed hours. The man returned, sent the other guard away, shoved a printed message through the bars. Rusty read with outward calm. His heart fell within him. "_Carter legally convicted attempted robbery, murder. Appealed to President, no avail. Nothing we can do. He was a good Tele-news man. Sorry._" He sank down to the bunk, the paper falling from his fingers. Absently he heard the sound of marching feet in the corridor outside, looked up blankly, saw uniformed men before his cell. The door opened and he was led out. Rusty shook hands with the guard, was marched down the hall to the stern of the ship. It didn't matter now. The older method of execution had been repealed, Rusty remembered idly. Instead of merely dropping the man out of the space lock, he was now placed in a disintegration chamber. The lethal box stood before him, a small, compact cylinder of metal, levers upon its side. The door was opened. "Anything you wish to say?"