“Say,” he said to Kurt hesitantly, “would you mind not mentioning that you fixed this crate up for me? If you do, they’ll take it away from me sure. Some captain will get a new rig, and I’ll be issued another clunk from Base Junkpile.”
“Sure thing,” said Kurt.
A moment later the flashing of a green light on the control panel signaled that the pressure in the lock had reached normal.
“Back in a minute,” said Ozaki. “You wait here.”
There was a muted hum as the exit hatch swung slowly open. Two guards entered and stood silently beside Kurt as Ozaki left to report to Commander Krogson.
XIII
The battle fleet of War Base Three of Sector Seven of the Galactic Protectorate hung motionless in space twenty thousand kilometers out from Kurt’s home planet. A hundred tired detection techs sat tensely before their screens, sweeping the globe for some sign of energy radiation. Aside from the occasional light spatters caused by space static, their scopes remained dark. As their reports filtered into Commander Krogson he became more and more exasperated.
“Are you positive this is the right planet?” he demanded of Ozaki.
“No question about it, sir.”
“Seems funny there’s nothing running down there at all,” said Krogson. “Maybe they spotted us on the way in and cut off power. I’ve got a hunch that—” He broke off in mid sentence as the red top-priority light on the communication panel began to flash. “Get that,” he said. “Maybe they’ve spotted something at last.”