Galliene’s voice spoke soothingly. "But my dear commander! How can I apologize enough? Believe me, the man responsible will be reward—I mean, the man responsible will be disciplined. You may rest assured of it. How unfortunate! I am overcome with shame. A terrible accident! Terrible." MacFife picked up a microphone. "Same here, Connie. A terrible accident. Aye, the man who did it will hear from me." "It was no accident," the Connie screamed. "Ah," Galliene replied, "but you cannot prove otherwise. Commander, do you realize what this means? You are helpless. Interplanetary law says that a helpless spaceship must be salvaged and taken in tow by the nearest cruiser, no matter what its nationality. We will do this jointly, the _Aquila_ and the _Sagittarius_. We will take turns towing you, my friend. We will haul you to Terra like any other piece of space junk." MacFife could remain quiet no longer. "Yes, mister. And that’s no’ the end o’ it. We will collect the salvage fee. One half the value of the salvaged vessel. Aye! My men will like that, since we share and share alike on salvage. Now put out a cable from your nose tube. I’ll take ye in tow first." He cut the communicator off, and met Rip’s grin. The two spacemen had figured out the one way to repay the Connie for his attempts on the asteroid. They couldn’t fire on him, but they could fake an "accident" that would cripple him and cost Consops millions of dollars in salvage fees. Nor would Consops refuse to pay. Salvage law was clear. Whoever performed the salvage was not required to turn the ship back to its owners until the fee had been paid, in whatever currency he cared to specify. And there was another angle. The cruisers would tow the Connie into the Federation spaceport in New Mexico. If past experience was any indication, the Connie would lose about half its crew—perhaps more. They would claim sanctuary in the Federation. Rip shook hands solemnly with the grinning Scotchman. It would be a long time before Consops tried space piracy again. "We’ll be back at our family fight again tomorrow," MacFife said, "but today we celebrate together. Ah, lad, this is pure joy to me. I’ve had a score to settle with yon Connies for years. Now I’ve done it." He put an arm around Rip’s shoulders. "While I’m in a givin’ mood, which is not the way of us Scots, is there anything ye’d like?" Rip could think of only one thing. "A hot shower. For me and my men. And will you take the prisoners off our hands?" "Yes to both. Anything else?" "We’ll need some rocket fuel. Terra says we have to correct course. Also, we’ll need a nuclear charge to throw us into a braking ellipse. And we need a new landing boat. The sun baked the equipment out of ours." MacFife nodded. "So be it. I’ll send men to the asteroid to bring back the prisoners and your Planeteers." He smiled. "We’ll let yon rock go by itself while hot showers and a good meal are had by all. It’s the least of what ye’ve earned."