on a Postal ship?" Mellors asked.

"Why don't you ask the Chief that? He's the one who yanked me out of the
Patrol and put me here."

"Can you beat that?" Gunderson asked incredulously. "Hal Preston, on a
Postal ship."

"Yeah. Incredible, isn't it?" Preston asked bitterly. "You can't believe
your ears. Well, you better believe it, because here I am."

"Must be some clerical error," Gunderson said.

"Let's change the subject," Preston snapped.

They were silent for a few moments, as the three ships--two armed, one
loaded with mail for Ganymede--streaked outward away from Earth.
Manipulating his controls with the ease of long experience, Preston
guided the ship smoothly toward the gleaming bulk of far-off Jupiter.
Even at this distance, he could see five or six bright pips surrounding
the huge planet. There was Callisto, and--ah--there was Ganymede.

He made computations, checked his controls, figured orbits. Anything to
keep from having to talk to his two ex-Patrolmates or from having to
think about the humiliating job he was on. Anything to--

* * * * *

"_Pirates! Moving up at two o'clock!_"

Preston came awake. He picked off the location of the pirate
ships--there were two of them, coming up out of the asteroid belt.
Small, deadly, compact, they orbited toward him.

He pounded the instrument panel in impotent rage, looking for the guns
that weren't there.

"Don't worry, Pres," came Mellors' voice. "We'll take care of them for
you."

"Thanks," Preston said bitterly. He watched as the pirate ships
approached, longing to trade places with the men in the Patrol ships
above and below him.

Suddenly a bright spear of flame lashed out across space and the hull of
Gunderson's ship glowed cherry red. "I'm okay," Gunderson reported
immediately. "Screens took the charge."

Preston gripped his controls and threw the ship into a plunging dive
that dropped it back behind the protection of both Patrol ships. He saw
Gunderson and Mellors converge on one of the pirates. Two blue beams
licked out, and the pirate ship exploded.

But then the second pirate swooped down in an unexpected dive. "Look
out!" Preston yelled helplessly--but it was too late. Beams ripped into
the hull of Mellors' ship, and a dark fissure line opened down the side
of the ship. Preston smashed his hand against the control panel. Better
to die in an honest dogfight than to live this way!

It was one against one,