At long last, when the ship's clock stood at 1100 hours, the party broke up. Ash-trays were piled high, the magnificent punchbowl was empty. Irvington and O'Brien left together, and Harrigan collapsed on his bunk. In his dreams he roamed the narrow streets of Mars Center, watched the pale, reed-like dancing girls sway their sensuous bodies before the open-mouthed Federation Cadets, and heard the far-off, haunting desert music. He walked through the fairy cities of Zithobar where the fragile, ethereal architecture belied the sadistic temperament of the inhabitants. And he cruised the tainted stratosphere of the Xantu planet, that dark and sinister world whose peoples enjoyed nothing more than heaving Terran prisoners, one by one, into the mouths of roaring volcanoes. * * * * * Anaton, the Federation base on Antares IV, was six days at full blast without Hyper-drive. After the round of hectic activity surrounding their escape from Sector I, officers and crew alike found the uneventful trip restful but boring. O'Brien played endless games of solitaire; Irvington slept; and Harrigan planned. Anaton was the biggest Federation base in Sector II, and the Hyper-drive was there. He just hoped that the base itself was there yet. At 0300 hours on the sixth day, Antares shone like a great red eye and they were three hours out of base. Antares III swung slowly past and Harrigan alerted the crew. They didn't have long to wait. O'Brien had just stacked his cards away when the starboard watch howled and three Xantu ships screamed across the _Albion_ bow, almost on collision course. Harrigan's brow wrinkled as the tail ship dropped back to engage the _Albion_ and the other two fled. These were not the usual Xantu tactics. Irvington coolly got the black craft between his sights, there was a whoosh and a blinding blast and four billion square miles of space flashed into daylight. The _Albion_ quickly overtook the two remaining ships and gun-banks three, four and five riddled one of them. It slowed, spun and became a lifeless, drifting shell. [Illustration: A blinding blast, and four billion square miles of space flashed into daylight....] But the pilot of ship three was no fool. He suddenly swiveled his ship, boomed off at a tangent, and, as the _Albion_ whipped by, his gunner caught her full in the tubes with a full charge from the stern guns. Now it was the _Albion's_ turn to spin end for end. But as the Xantu craft spun into his sights for a fraction of a second, Irvington tripped the atomic cannon again. The bolt ricochetted off the Xantu's bow and the ship slowly split down the center like an over-ripe melon. From the bridge, Harrigan counted three life boats deserting the mother ship and he watched the gunners vainly try to pick them off. But they were too small a target, and they quickly merged into the sanctuary of darkness. He buzzed O'Brien. "Let's get down to Drive, quick. They got that Xantu blast dead center."