," he said again. "We've made it a point to remember that."

"The gravity, the heat and cold and fever, the animals--why didn't they
kill you?"

"They tried," he said. "But we fought back. And we had a goal--to meet
you Gerns again. You left us on a world that had no resources. Only
enemies who would kill us--the gravity, the prowlers, the unicorns. So
we made them our resources. We adapted to the gravity that was supposed
to kill us and became stronger and quicker than Gerns. We made allies of
the prowlers and unicorns who were supposed to be our executioners and
used them tonight to help us kill Gerns. So now we have your ship."

"Yes ... you have our ship." Through the unwillingness to believe on the
commander's face and the petulance there came the triumph of vindictive
anticipation. "The savages of Ragnarok have a Gern cruiser--but what can
they do with it?"

"What can we do with it?" he asked, almost kindly. "We've planned for
two hundred years what we can do with it. We have the cruiser and sixty
days from now we'll have Athena. That will be only the beginning and you
Gerns are going to help us do it."

* * * * *

For six days the ship was a scene of ceaseless activity. Men crowded it,
asking questions of the Gern officers and crew and calmly breaking the
bones of those who refused to answer or who gave answers that were not
true. Prowlers stalked the corridors, their cold yellow eyes watching
every move the Gerns made. The little mockers began roaming the ship at
will, unable any longer to restrain their curiosity and confident that
the men and prowlers would not let the Gerns harm them.

One mocker was killed then; the speckle-faced mocker that could repeat
messages verbatim. It wandered into a storage cubicle where a Gern was
working alone and gave him the opportunity to safely vent his hatred of
everything associated with the men of Ragnarok. He broke its back with a
steel bar and threw it, screaming, into the disposal chute that led to
the matter converter. A prowler heard the scream and an instant later
the Gern screamed; a sound that died in its making as the prowler tore
his throat out. No more mockers were harmed.

One Ragnarok boy was killed. Three fanatical Gern officers stole knives
from the galley and held the boy as hostage for their freedom. When
their demands were refused they cut his heart out. Lake cornered them a
few minutes later and, without touching his