"Space torpedoes coming," he reported tersely. "Six, of course," replied the Captain. "Right." It was the standard size cluster. "How many lifeboats besides ourselves?" "Five." "Then we're the sixth." "Right." "Any of them driving toward the cruiser itself?" "No, their guiding mechanisms must be set for small-sized craft. They'll track every one of us down." "A torpedo is heading directly for us now," reported Ronaro. "At least one boat must get through to carry our message," stated Ekrado flatly. "What do you propose--a sacrifice?" "Set the heat ray projector for a narrow fan beam and slice the nearest lifeboat into two parts," ordered the Captain. Ronaro's tentacles fairly boiled the water as he made the necessary adjustments. A thousand miles behind them, the closest lifeboat from their stricken vessel glowed briefly around its equator and fell apart into two halves that gradually spread apart. "Two hundred years ago, in the Second Gruon War, I saw my best friend die in just such a sacrifice," grated Ekrado. "I did not like it then and I do not like it now. It was not an easy order to give." Without replying, Ronaro watched the vision screen anxiously. His eyes were on the bright red halo that warned of a torpedo speeding toward their own lifeboat. There was an additional, separate metal object in space now, toward which the sixth torpedo might automatically be guided by the mechanism in its nose. Blinding flashes lit up the vision screen as one lifeboat after another was destroyed. Now only two torpedoes were left, one heading toward them, and the other toward the lifeboat that had been split in half. At last, the torpedo bearing on them deviated from its course as its guiding mechanism sensed the nearer metal bulk of the nearer half of the lifeboat. The two flashes appeared as one as the two torpedoes blasted both halves of the sacrifice into nothingness. "All six exploded," reported Ronaro. "The enemy cruiser is veering off to return to base. We are safe!" The little boat sped on until finally it was screaming through the thin upper air of Earth. Ekrado sharply decreased their speed to prevent over-heating the hull, having no desire to be cooked alive in the water of his own lifeboat. * * * * * Below them, covering the horizon, was the vast expanse of the Atlantic. The two Alarians were joyous at the sight of such a planet. Here was no dried-up world, such as some they had seen where old age or the heat of a nearby sun had dried up the life-giving waters. Ekrado sent the little craft straight down toward the blue expanse below. Water shot high into the air like a geyser as the alien lifeboat plunged into the ocean. Deep under the water's surface, the craft leveled off and slowed until it drifted idly. "Take an instrument reading," ordered Ekrado. "Let us see what kind of a hydrosphere this planet has. It looks good enough."