"Not a traitor, Mister Crag. To the contrary, I have been very faithful to my country." "You're a traitor," Crag stated coldly. "Come, be reasonable. A traitor is one who betrays his country. You work for your side ... I work for mine. It's as simple as that." He spoke languidly but Crag knew he was laughing at him. He made an effort to control his his temper. "You were born in the United States," Crag pursued. "Wrong again." "Raised in the Maple Hill Orphanage. I have your personnel record." "Ah, that _was_ your Martin Larkwell." The voice taunted. "But I became Martin Larkwell one sunny day in Buenos Aires. Part of, shall we say, a well planned tactic? No, I am not your Martin Larkwell, Mister Crag. And I'm happy enough to be able to shed his miserable identity." "What do you expect to gain?" Crag asked. He kept his voice reasonable, hedging for time. "Come, now, Mister Crag, you know the stakes. The moon goes to the country whose living representative is based here when the U.N. makes its decision--which should be soon. Note that I said _living_." "Most of the supplies are in Red Dog," Crag pointed out. "There's enough here for one man." The voice was maddeningly bland in Crag's earphones. "You won't live through the rockstorm," Crag promised savagely. "The chances of a direct hit are pretty remote. You said that yourself." "Maybe...." "That's good enough for me." "Damn you, Larkwell, you can't do this. Throw that ladder down." It was Nagel. Again the scream came over the earphones: "Throw it down, I say." "You've made a mistake," Crag cut in calmly. "We can survive. There's enough oxygen in Red Dog." "I opened each cylinder you handed down," the man in the hatch stated matter-of-factly. "In fact, I opened all of the cylinders in Red Dog. Sorry, Mister Crag, but the oxygen's all gone. Soon you'll follow Prochaska." "You did that?" Crag's voice was a savage growl. "This is war, Mister Crag. Prochaska was an enemy." He spoke almost conversationally. Crag had the feeling that everyone was crazy. It was a fantastic mixed-up dream, a nightmare. Soon he'd awaken.... "Coward!" Nagel screamed. "Coward--damned coward!" The figure in the hatch vanished into the rocket. He's armed! Crag's mind seized on die knowledge that two automatic rifles were still in Bandit. He ordered the men back, alarmed. Nagel stood his ground screaming maledictions. "Come back, Gordon," Crag snapped. Malin reappeared a few seconds later holding a rifle. Crag snapped his torch off, leaving the plain in darkness. "Move back," he ordered again. "I won't. I'm going to get into that rocket," Nagel babbled. He lunged forward and was lost in the darkness before Crag could stop him. "Nagel, get back here! That's an order." "I won't ... I won't!" His scream was painful in Crag's ears.