ded, nondescript mementoes of a thousand adventures.

I found, at last, what I was seeking. No impressive thing, this: a bit
of metal, irregular in shape, no larger than my palm, and three times
the thickness. One side was smooth; the other was stained as by great
heat, and deeply pitted as though it had been steeped in acid.

Silently, I turned the bit of metal over and over in my hands. I had
begged hard for this souvenir; had obtained it only by passing my word
its secret would never reach the Universe through me. But now ... now
that seal of secrecy has been removed.

As I write this, slowly and thoughtfully, as an old man writes,
relishing his words for the sake of the memories they bring before his
eyes, a bit of metal holds against the vagrant breeze the filled pages
of my script. A bit of metal, no larger than my palm, and perhaps three
times the thickness. It is irregular in shape, and smooth on one side.
The other side is eroded as though by acid.

Not an imposing thing, this ancient bit of metal, but to me one of my
most precious possessions. It is, beyond doubt, the only fragment of my
old ship, the _Ertak_, now in existence and identifiable.

And this story is the story of that pitted metal and the ship from which
it came; one of the strangest stories in all my storehouse of memories
of days when only the highways of the Universe had been charted, and
breathless adventure awaited him who dared the unknown trails of the
Special Patrol Service.

* * * * *

The _Ertak_, as I recall the details now, had just touched at Base upon
the completion of a routine patrol--one of those monotonous, fruitless
affairs which used to prey so upon Correy's peace of mind. Correy was my
first officer on the _Ertak_, and the keenest seeker after trouble I
have ever known.

"The Chief presents his compliments and requests an immediate audience
with Commander Hanson," announced one of the brisk, little attaches of
Base, before I'd had time to draw a second breath of fresh air.

I glanced at Correy, who was beside me, and winked. That is, I quickly
drew down the lid of one eye--a peculiar little gesture common to Earth,
which may mean any one of many things.

"Sounds like something's in the wind," I commented in a swift aside.
"Better give 'no leaves' until I come back."

"Right, sir!" chuckled Correy. "It's about time."

I made my way swiftly to the Chief's private office, and was prompt