"Get away from me." Elderburg wrenched away, his loathing clear even behind the bulky suit. "If what the men say is true. If you sold us out--" His voice trailed off. "Call your men out of the pits, Jerill. We're blasting off tonight." "No." Scott leaned forward, his eyes mere slits behind the lense of his helmet. "Is there any uranium left?" "We saved two cells." "It's enough," Scott snapped. His lean jaw lifted proudly. "It's a little late, Captain. But I can promise to get rid of the cats in two hours. With the ore deposits Vaugn and I have collected, we can still load a good cargo and beat the _Kastil_ out by at least a day." Elderburg eyed him sharply. "How can you handle the cats?" "Get me a lead-lined box about eight feet by...." Static blasted shrilly in their ears. The voice of the ship's lookout, strained with excitement, shouted. "Captain Elderburg. This is Main Control. Get here fast. An explosion at Lieutenant Jerill's mine." As Elderburg leaped for the door with a muffled roar, the lookout's voice tautened. "No. No. Not an explosion. It's the _Kastil_. They're attacking the mine. They're attacking the mine." * * * * * They crammed into the observation blister on the _Bertha's_ nose. Scanners swept smoothly over the wilderness of stone jutting up between the ship and the mine. "There's a fire fight going out there." Elderburg's square face knotted with anger. "Scott, take a party. Blow that livid scum crew off this rock." "Right, sir!" Scott bolted from the observation port. The emergency alarm howled through the ship. He buckled on a pair of blasters with unsteady hands, a black fury sweeping him. He stabbed one long finger down on the intercom. "Masters," he yelled. "Get the cargo jet ready. With full battle equipment." "Right, lieutenant. What's up?" "Piracy." He spun toward the door. Then jolted to a halt, hands balling at his sides. A picture was forming on the Master Communication Screen. Elderburg pounded to his side. "Who is it?" The picture on the screen was very definite now--a swarthy giant of a man, cynically grinning down at them. "Gentlemen," the figure on the screen said, and Scott needed no further introduction. It was Randell, master of the ship _Kastil_. "We've had a very entertaining two days," Randell said. His thick hands rubbed easily together. "It's been a real pleasure watching you work. But I'm afraid the pleasure is over. We're leaving you now. Oh, that disturbance at your mine pit?" He laughed, but only with his mouth; the close-set eyes remained unchanging, watchful. "It seemed so unnecessary to bother mining ore when so much of it was stacked near our pit." "You bloody murdering bandit," Elderburg thundered. "We'll blast you...."