He heard the weird scream of a ray gun, and felt the constricting terror that seemed to belt the ship like an iron band. This was a battle in space, and out there were Uranian cruisers trying to blast the _Stardust_ out of the sky. Trying and trying, while the captain dodged and fired back--pitted his skill and knowledge against an enemy Shano couldn't see. He wanted desperately to help the captain break through, and get to Earth. But he could only cling to the plastic pipes and cough. The ship jounced and slid beneath his feet, and was filled with sound. It rocked and rolled. Shano caromed off the bulkhead. "Hold fire." He crawled to his knees on the slippery deck, grabbed the pipes and pulled himself erect, hand over hand. His eyes came level with the gray metal box behind the pipes. He squinted, fascinated, at the quivering dial needle. "Hey!" he said. "Stand by." Shano puzzled it out, his mind groping. He wasn't used to thinking. Only working with his hands. This box. This needle that had quivered when the ship was closed down.... "It's over. Chased them off. Ready guns before laying to. Third watch on duty." Shano sighed at the sudden release of tension throughout the space liner _Stardust_. Smoke spewed from his nostrils. His forehead wrinkled with concentration. Those rumors: "Man sells out to Uranus, gets a nick cut in his jaw. Ever see a man with a nick in his jaw? Watch him, he's up to something." The talk of ignorant men. Shano remembered. He poked behind the pipes and angrily slapped the toggle switches on the box. The captain would only scoff. He'd never believe there was a traitor aboard who had planted an electronic signal box, giving away the ship's position. He'd never believe the babblings of an old man. He straightened up, glaring angrily. He knew. And the knowledge made him cold and furious. He watched the engine room emergency exit as it opened cautiously. A chunky man backed out, holstering a flat blaster. He turned and saw Shano, standing smoking. He walked over and nudged Shano, his face dark. Shano blew smoke into the dark face. "Old man," said Rourke. "What're you doing down here?" Shano blinked. Rourke fingered the nick in his jaw, eyes glinting. "You're supposed to be in your cabin," he said. "Didn't I warn you we'd run into trouble?" Shano smoked and contemplated the chunky man. Estimated his strength and youth and felt the anger and frustration mount in him. "Devil," he said. [Illustration: _"Devil," he said and dug his cigarette into the other's face._] He lunged then, clawing. He dug the cigarette into Rourke's flushed face, and clung to his body. Rourke howled. He fell backward to the deck, slapping at his blistered face. He thrashed around and Shano clung to him, battered, pressing the cigarette relentlessly, coughing, cursing the pain in his joints. Shano grasped Rourke's neck with his hands. He twisted the neck with his gnarled hands. Strong hands that had worked.