"_To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned, To our brothers in the tunnels outside time, Sing three Change-resistant Zombies, raised from death and robot-crammed, And Commandos of the Spiders-- Here's to crime! We're three blind mice on the wrong time-track, Hush--hush--hush! We've lost our now and will never get back, Hush--hush--hush! Change Commandos out on the spree, Damned through all possibility, Ghostgirls, think kindly on such as we, Hush--hush--hush!_" While they were singing, I looked down at my charcoal skirt and over at Maud and Lili and I thought, "Three gray hustlers for three black hussars, that's our speed." Well, I'd never thought of myself as a high-speed job, winning all the races--I wouldn't feel comfortable that way. Come to think of it, we've got to lose and win all the races in the long run, the way the course is laid out. I fingered to Illy, "That's the picture, all right, Spider boy." --FRITZ LEIBER Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ March and April 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.