"I know. I was in and out of Storisende on these owner-captain tramps for a couple of years before I decided to retire and settle here," Jacquemont said. "The profit on a cargo of Poictesme brandy on Terra or Baldur is over a thousand percent." "Well, don't give up too soon," Nichols advised. "You can't keep the _Harriet Barne_, of course, but you're entitled to prize-money on her, and that ought to buy you something you could build a spaceship out of." "That's right," Jacquemont said. "Everything else besides the frame can be made here. Look, these pirates burned me out; except for the money I have in the bank, I lost everything, home, business and all. As soon as I can find a place for Sylvie to stay, I'll come back and go to work for your company building a spaceship. And a lot of the men who were working here are farm-tramps and drifters, one job's as good as another as long as they get paid for it. And I know a few good men in Storisende--engineers--who'd be glad for a job, too." "You think it would be all right with Mother and Flora if Sylvie stayed with us?" Conn asked. "Of course it would; they'd be glad to have her." Rodney Maxwell turned to Yves Jacquemont. "Let's consider that fixed up. Now, suppose you and I go into Storisende, and...." The Transcontinent & Overseas people arrived at Barathrum Spaceport the next morning; a rear-rank vice-president, a front-rank legal-eagle, and three engineers. They were horrified at what they saw. The _Harriet Barne_ had been gutted. Bulkheads and decks had been ripped out and relocated incomprehensibly; the bridge and the control room under it were gone; she had been stripped to her framework, and the whole underside was sheathed in shimmering collapsium. "Great Ghu!" the vice-president almost howled. "That isn't _our_ ship!" "That's the _Harriet Barne_," her captain said. "She looks a little ragged now, but--" "You helped these pirates do this to her?" "If I hadn't, they'd have cut my throat and gotten somebody else to help them. My throat's more valuable to me than the ship is to you; I can't get anybody to build me a new one." "Well, understand," one of the engineers said, "they were converting her into an interplanetary ship. It wouldn't cost much to finish the job." "We need an interplanetary ship like we need a hole in the head!" The vice-president turned to Rodney Maxwell. "Just how much prize-money do you think you're entitled to for this wreck?" "I wouldn't know; that's up to Sterber, Flynn & Chen-Wong. Up to the court, if we can settle it any other way." "You mean you'd litigate about this?" the lawyer demanded, and began to laugh. "If we have to. Look, if you people don't want her, sign her over to Litchfield Exploration & Salvage. But if you do want her, you'll have to pay for her."