Joe continued to relate his observations. “I’ve scanned as far as the instruments can reach, and there’s just nothing out there in any direction--except the Earth ships, of course. They should be here in about three hours.” “No debris?” “No, Zip. I’ve found where the explosion took place and examined that more carefully than any other area. It was a violent blow. I think about a third of an asteroid was turned into dust when it went off, and that’s powerful enough to vaporize any ship that was carrying a weapon with that kind of potential.” Zip shook his head as if warding off a buzzing insect. “All right. Nothing we can do about it.” He turned to the third Starman on the crew. “Mark,” he called out. “Would you send a report to Mars please and ask Commander De Koven what he wants us to do?” “Okay, Zip.” Mark prepared the message and sent it off. The response would come through after a delay of several minutes. As they waited, Joe said, “You seem uneasy, Zip. What’s there to worry about?” “I just like completion. That ship we were chasing carried the last of the pirates from Mars, and I’d just feel a lot better if there were some debris, some evidence that they hadn’t escaped.” “Zip,” came a deep voice from the lounge next to the flight deck, “there’s a lot of uncertainties in life, ’specially life in space. I been around a lot and believe me, the exception is when you really know everything that happened--and that’s never.” “Sure, Steve,” answered Zip, raising his voice. “I know. But I don’t like it.” “You’ll probably be uneasy most of your life then. C’mon, be like me. Lie down, relax, take a nap. You’ve been rushing for days now, especially the last couple when we were shooting through the void at top speed. Give it up now, boy. You can’t do anything more.” Zip didn’t answer, but he walked into the lounge. Steve Cliff was completely relaxed, with his feet propped on a table. His huge frame was sunk into the sofa deeper than Zip would have thought possible. Zip picked up a book that Mark had been reading, and lay down. In less than a minute, he was asleep with the open book face down on his chest. * * * * * “Up you go, Zip, it’s dinnertime.” Steve’s normally boisterous voice was gentle and almost subdued. Zip took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. He sat up, put the book aside and ran his hands through his red hair. “What’s going on?” “You’ve been out almost four hours. Figured I’d make myself useful so I whipped up some food. Here you go.” Steve set a tray down on the nearby table. There were mashed potatoes, salad heavy on diced tomatoes just the way Zip liked it, and a few pieces of very thinly sliced roast beef in a luscious brown gravy. “Looks delicious, Steve; thanks.”