ad lost electricity and radio and
telegraph, and the spread of news was at the speed of one of the
beasts the locals insisted on calling horses. By midafternoon, they
had finished with that city. It had been as bad as the first one.

One thing, it was the center of a considerable cattle country. The
cattle were native to the planet, heavy-bodied unicorns the size of
a Gram bisonoid or one of the slightly mutated Terran carabaos on
Tanith, with long hair like a Terran yak. He had detailed a dozen of
the _Nemesis_ ground-fighters who had been vaqueros on his Traskon
ranches to collect a score of cows and four likely bulls, with
enough fodder to last them on the voyage. The odds were strongly
against any of them living to acclimate themselves to Tanith, but
if they did, they might prove to be one of the most valuable pieces
of loot from Khepera.

The third city was at the forks of a river, like Tradetown on
Tanith. Unlike it, this was a real metropolis. They should have
gone there first of all. They spent two days systematically pillaging
it. The Kheperans carried on considerable river-traffic, with
stern-wheel steamboats, and the waterfront was lined with warehouses
crammed with every sort of merchandise. Even better, the Kheperans
had money, and for the most part it was gold specie, and the bank
vaults were full of it.

Unfortunately, the city had been built since the fall of the
Federation and the climb up from the barbarism that had followed,
and a great deal of it was of wood. Fires started almost at once,
and it was almost completely on fire by the end of the second day.
It had been visible in the telescopic screen even after they were
out of atmosphere, a black smear until the turning planet carried
it into darkness and then a lurid glow.

* * * * *

"It was a filthy business."

Harkaman nodded. "Robbery and murder always are. You don't have to
ask me who said that Space Vikings are professional robbers and
murderers, but who was it said that he didn't care how many planets
were raided and how many innocents massacred in the Old Federation?"

"A dead man. Lucas Trask of Traskon."

"You wish, now, that you'd kept Traskon and stayed on Gram?"

"No. If I had, I'd have spent every hour wishing I was doing what
I'm doing now. I can get used to this, I suppose."

"I think you will. At least, you kept your rations down. I didn't on
my first raid, and had bad dreams about it for a