Talents, Incorporated information! It's a free sample. You
can verify it without it costing you anything, and when you want more
and better information--why--we'll be at the spaceport ready to give it
to you. And you will want to call on us! That's Talents, Incorporated
information, too!"

He turned and marched confidently--almost grandly--out of the room. The
girl smiled faintly at Bors.

"He left out something, Captain. That cruiser-- It could hardly act
without information on when to act. So there's a pair of spies in a
little shack on the cape. They've got an underwater cable going under
the sand beach and out and down to the space-cruiser. They're watching
the fleet on the ground with telescopes. When they see activity around
it, they'll tell the cruiser what to do." Then she smiled more broadly.
"Honestly, it's true! And don't forget about the liner!"

She followed her father out of the room. Outside, as they got into the
waiting ground-car, she said to her father, "If he smiled, I think I'd
like him."

But Bors did not know that at the time. He would probably not have paid
any attention if he had. Kandar was about to be taken over by the
Mekinese, as his own Tralee had been ten years before, and other planets
before that. Mekin was making an empire after an ancient tradition,
which scorned the idea of incorporating other worlds into its own
governmental system--which was appalling--but merely made them subjects
and satellites and tributaries.

Bors had been born on Tralee, which he remembered as a tranquil world of
glamor and happiness. But he was on Kandar now. He served in its
space-navy, and he foresaw Kandar becoming what Tralee had become. He
felt such hatred and rebellion toward Mekin, that he could not notice a
pretty girl. He was getting ready for the savage last battle of the
space-fleet of Kandar, which would fight in the great void until it was
annihilated. There was nothing else to do if one was not to submit to
the arrogant tyranny that already lorded it over twenty-two subject
planets and might extend itself indefinitely throughout the galaxy.

He moved to verify again the complete pulverizing of the ashes in the
fireplace.

The communicator buzzed. He pressed the answer button. A voice said,
"_Sir, the space-liner_ Vestis _reports breakout from overdrive. Now
driving for port. Message ends._"

Bors's eyes popped wide. He'd heard exactly that only minutes ago! It
could be coincidence, but