red the crate into
the shadows.

Sweat streaming down his face, Scott tore his eyes from the _Kastil_
hatch, grimly watched as his men scooped rubbish into the pit.

A motion in the darkness. Out where no motion should be. Movement among
the sunless stones.

Scott's breathing stopped.

A group of men closing in toward the cargo jet. Men racing out of the
shadows. Men of the _Kastil_.

"Stop," Scott shouted frantically into his radio. "Get that crate back
to the jet. Get it out of the pit. Back to the jet. It's too late.
Hurry. Hurry!"

For a single astounded moment the men paused. Then, sweeping the rubble
from the crate, they fumbled it toward the surface of the pit.

Scott leaped down among them. Pushed. "They're going to trap us." The
crate struck on the pit's edge. Scott seized one end, forced it up over.
"Grab that other end, Masters. Move, man. Don't argue. Move!"

Staggering over the uneven ground, they lurched toward the jet.

"I think you ought to rest for a moment." It was the cool voice of
Randell, who stepped from the darkness with a blaster turned full on
them.

Crewmen from the _Kastil_ poured from among the rocks. Their blasters
swung a menacing ring about Scott and his men.

"Step back away from the crate." Randell stepped forward, tapped his
blaster against the side of the box. "Now what do we have here."

"Keep away from that," Scott snarled. "That's property of the _Bertha_."

"Is it?" Randell turned carelessly to his men. "Property of the
_Bertha_," he drawled. "Well, we'd better have a look at it now. To make
sure you haven't accidentally salvaged some of the _Kastil's_ equipment.
Oh, quite by accident, I understand."

He began to loosen the screw-clamps of the lid.

"Stop!" Scott leaped forward, no longer conscious of the weapons
swinging on him. He dropped his hand upon the box.

"This is mine," he said. "I forbid you to touch it."

"Have you ever seen a man die of a blaster bolt?" Randell asked. "Step
back."

The men of the _Bertha_ fell back. Their shoulders touched the toothed
rim of stone about the pit.

Randell chuckled. "Perhaps it's just as well we didn't blast off when we
were loaded. There was always a chance you'd found something else of
value here."

He flicked the muzzle of the blaster about. "If you don't mind, we'll
inspect this crate in a better light. Back at the _Kastil_."

Triumph leaped through Scott. "This is piracy," he said, and sounded
sincere.