"I see it. But as one skeleton in the museum told the other, if we had any guts we'd get out of here...." "Follow me." Since it sounded like an order, Luverduk obeyed it. Kram was not a lance-corporal yet. Luverduk followed his superior to one of the firing ranges for atomic cannon. Kram pointed to a dismantled space-cruiser hull, used regularly by cannoneer cadets for target practice. Its molybdenum hide was scarred with many accurately-directed blasts. It was nearly a quarter-mile from where Kram stood. "Watch," he said. Luverduk sensed an order in that word also. Kram pointed the pistol, potent up to 50 yards. Slowly, his long right arm came up. The streamlined weapon glinted in the afternoon sunlight. Carefully, Kram aimed--aimed impossibly--at the distant cruiser hull! Then his finger constricted on the trigger. _Hiss_ it went. And the hull was blasted to atoms! "You--" That was all Luverduk could utter. He gaped, pudgy mouth hanging open, first at the pistol, then at the rising column of white smoke where the scarred hull had been. He knew at the same time that had it not been for the shock-wave absorbers covering the range with their radiations, he would at present be flat on his face, or its reasonable facsimile. "I," Kram said, "am a weapons expert as well as an Intelligence officer. You know that. Correct?" "Gurgle." "Confronted with the facts, Luverduk, which you yourself have just witnessed, what would you say?" "That pistol is better than the--the G-ray! You--" "I have. Xenthl's skin, I expect, should crawl. Agreed?" Luverduk nodded slowly. "Good. Because we are now going to see him. A ship is parked in the hangar." "Not about that truce business--" Luverduk's voice rose in horror. "Precisely." "Hoskins?" Luverduk's voice was a challenge to all soprano mice. "Umm," Kram said. Luverduk followed him. * * * * * _From Karz, Commander, Sector Patrol III: For Kuul, Patrol Coordinator. Urgent. Subject: enemy flight. At 16:12, western hemisphere Earth time, single ship seen to be directed Moonside, no armament, but beyond restrictive boundary. Following, three smaller craft, likewise unarmed, towing six apparently unmanned cruisers of obsolete design. Single craft continues Moonside. Towing craft leave unmanned cruisers adrift after deceleration approximately 1,500 miles outside boundary. Speed of abandoned ships, less than 300 miles per hour. Adrift in loose line formation. Single ship, now radiating truce signal, continues course. Am holding fire pending your advisory._ * * * * * _From Kuul, Patrol Coordinator, Sirian Expeditionary Forces: For Karz, Commander, Sector Patrol III. Subject: communication 18Z. Continue holding fire pending my command._ * * * * *