He stepped through the entrance. But this cell, too, lay empty. Slick-palmed, taut nerves quaking, Boone waved on the others. They came in. Their breathing rasped loud in the stillness. Boone tightened his grip on the blaster. Lor moved to the rear, to the converter chamber. "Perhaps here--" He pushed open the hatch-door. The silence broke, then. A thousand ways it broke: in the _Whish!_ of a club, and the thud of a heavy blow landing; the quick scrape of feet, the blurred whir of fast movement. A curse and a clanking, a raw ring of metal. Lor went down as a rock falls, blood spurting from a head-wound. Eileen screamed. And then, there was Krobis: tight-lipped, sharp-featured Krobis of the too-short legs and too-slicked black hair. Guards crowding past him, he stood in the converter-room hatchway, and never had Boone seen such malice on any human face. "So, you traitor!" Now Krobis was laughing. "I swore that I'd get you, and by Rega, I have!" Boone stood wordless, gripped by sick numbness. "Chelan, take that blaster!" A guard shuffled forward. "No!" Boone grated. His finger went tight on the trigger. He backed to the wall-plates. "So--?" Krobis leered at him. "Think of the girl, Boone--your precious Eileen! What chance would she have, if you let go a blast-bolt?" Eileen--! Boone turned to stare at her. She stood slumped, face covered. Her shoulders were shaking. Wearily, Boone let the guard take the blaster. "Good!" Krobis stalked forward, still leering. "But not for you, Boone! This time you don't get off with just Venus Barracks!" Boone raised his head slowly. "Not Venus Barracks--?" "No, damn you!" Krobis' voice rang with elation. "I'm in command here--and this is an unchartered base! Under space law, that gives me full power to try and pass sentence." A pause, electric with tension. "I'm condemning you to death!" * * * * * It was the strangest of moments. For all at once Boone's heart was no longer pounding. The tension drained from him. It was as if he had known from the start what was coming. The words in themselves brought only relief, not more panic. Krobis wouldn't even be censured. He stood too high in the Cartel for that. Federation officials could be counted on to go along, too, if for no other reason than the trouble at the Thelema base, the wrecking of the airlocks. Now Krobis was turning. He spoke to a sergeant: "Get a squad ready. They die in five minutes." "'They'--?" Boone went rigid. "What do you mean, 'they'? I'm the one who's condemned, not Eileen and Lor!" "Is that so?" Krobis' sharp-featured face was like granite. "You were in this together." Fury rocked Boone. "You're afraid, Krobis; that's the answer--afraid that this whole dirty business will backfire--" "Is that quite all?" Krobis' eyes, his voice, had never been colder. "If so"--this to the guard--"sergeant, you may proceed with the execution!"