p this post is going to
be, to sort out..."

"Get to it," Nelsen commented.

"You've got something in mind?"

"Uh-huh. Coming in, I heard somebody address somebody else as Fan.
Fanshaw, that would be. And I kind of remembered his voice, as he
cracked out orders. He was with this group. I'm going after him."

"Good night...! I'll send some of my crowd along."

"Nope, Joe. They'd spot two or more guys. One, they won't even believe
in. This is a lone-wolf deal. Besides, it's personal... Shucks--I don't
even think there's a risk..."

There, he knew he exaggerated--especially as, huddled up to resemble a
small asteroid-fragment, he followed the retreating specks. His only
weapon was a rapid-fire launcher, using small rockets loaded only with
chemical explosive. He felt a tingle all through him. Scare, all right.

Ahead, as he expected, he saw three stolen bubbs blossom out. There'd be
a real pirates' party, like he'd seen, once. They'd have a lookout
posted, of course. But the enormity of the Belt made them cocky. Who
could ever really police very much of it? One other advantage was that
Jolly Lads were untidy. Around the distant bubbs floated a haze of
jettisoned refuse. Boxes, wrappings, shreds of stellene. Nelsen had
figured on that.

Decelerating, he draped a sheet of synthetic cellulose that he'd brought
along, loosely over his armored shape. Then he drifted unobtrusively
close. At a half-mile distance, he peered through the telescope sight of
his launcher. The bubbs were close together. The lookout floated free.
Him, he got first, with a careful, homing shot.

Immediately he fired a burst into each bubb, saw them collapse around
their human contents. The men inside were like cats in limp bags, the
exits of which could no longer be found. Calmly he picked the biggest
lumps of struggling forms, and fired again and again, until there was no
more motion left except an even rotation.

He soon located Fanshaw. His unarmored body was bloated and drying, his
mouth gaped, his shovel teeth were exposed to the stars and the distant,
naked sun. Nelsen had to think back to six dead young men and a girl, to
keep from feeling lousy. Had Fanshaw been just another guy invading a
region that was too big and terrible for humans?

With something like dread, Nelsen looked for Tiflin, too. But, of
course, that worthy wasn't around.

Nelsen picked up some space-fitness cards. Quite a few nations were
represented. Joe would hav