"What in blazes do you think I am, man!" roared Connel as he lunged for the door and stepped out onto the porch. The men were within a hundred feet of the porch when they saw Connel. The Solar Guard officer spread his legs and stuck out his jaw, his paralo-ray gun leveled. "The first one of you tin soldiers that puts a foot on these steps gets frozen stiffer than a snowball on Pluto! Now stand where you are, state your business, and then blast off!"
"Halt!" The leader of the column of men held up his hand. Connel saw that the plastic helmets were frosted over, except for a clear band across the eye level. All of the faces were hidden. The leader stepped forward, his hand on his paralo-ray gun. "Greetings, Major Connel."
Connel snorted. "If you'd take off that Halloween mask, I might know who I'm talking to!"
"My name is Hilmarc."
"Hilmarc?"
"Yes. I am the leader of this detachment."
"Leader, huh?" grunted Connel. "Leader of what? A bunch of little tin soldiers?"
"You shall see, Major." Hilmarc's voice was low and threatening.
"I'm going to count to five," announced Connel grimly, lifting his paralo-ray gun, "and if you and your playmates aren't back in your ships, I start blasting."
"That would be unwise," replied Hilmarc. "Your one gun against all of ours."