“Come with me.” Unsteadily, I walked to the ladder, then down to the brig on Level 3. Mr. Vishinsky himself stood guard over the several small cells. “How many?” My tone was sharp.

“Seven, sir.”

“Is Mr. Herney in there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring him out.” The machinist’s mate darted from his opened cell, hands twisting his shirt in anxiety. He stiffened to attention when he saw me. “Mr. Herney, you don’t belong in a brig with such as these. Your sentence is commuted.

Back to your berth. Behave yourself.”

He searched my face, weak with relief. “Aye aye, sir!”

He scurried off with the miracle of his deliverance.

“Where is the ringleader?” I asked, in a voice I didn’t recognize as my own.

Vishinsky gestured. “In cell one, by himself.”

“Unlock it. Both of you, follow me.” I entered the tiny cell. The prisoner sat on the deck, hands locked behind him, legs cuffed together. “Cut his clothes off.”

Vishinsky glanced at me in surprise but recovered quickly.

“Aye aye, sir.” He pulled a folding knife from his pocket.

The prisoner’s eyes widened, but the man said nothing as Vishinsky slashed the seams of his clothing. A moment later the prisoner was hunched naked.

“Stand him up.” Vax and the master-at-arms hauled the unnerved man to his feet.

“Mr. Vishinsky, go to cell two. Prepare the next man in exactly the same way and wait there.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Vax, take this.” I handed Vax my laser pistol. I stood with my back to the bulkhead, my hand half open in front of my chest. “Mr. Holser, watch my hand. When this man lies, I will move my little finger. Like this. You will immediately shoot him in the face and follow me to the next cell. Say nothing and ask no questions. Simply watch my finger and shoot if it moves. Acknowledge, Mr. Holser.”

Vax swallowed. He was silent a long moment.

“Acknowledge your orders!” My tone was savage.

He hesitated for barely a second. “Orders received and understood, Captain Seafort. I will shoot him in the face when your finger moves, sir.”

I swung to the prisoner. “You’re the one who said he was General Kail?”

“Yes.” The man swallowed, his eyes darting between my hand and Vax’s pistol.

“What’s your real name?”

“Kerwin Jones.”

“Where is General Kail?”

“On the station. Please don’t shoot, I’m telling the truth.

Please.”

“He’s alive?”

“Yes, sir. He’s locked in a suiting room. Some of the joes are holding him with the other officers.”

I twitched my hand the tiniest fraction. The man blanched.

“You rebelled?”

“Yes, sir. It’s the miners, sir. They were going to kill us all. I worked in the comm room, sir. I’m a civilian. When the supply ships didn’t come they got sort of crazy. I had to go along with them, or--”

“How many officers were killed?”

“Just two, sir. It happened so fast. We had to find a way off the station, don’t you see?”

“What’s happened planetside?”

“The miners took over. They’re holding the U.N.A.F. as prisoners, I think. The committee has control of the shuttle, they come up every day or so to keep an eye on things.” I looked at my finger. “It’s the truth, sir,” he blurted. “I swear by Lord God Himself! Please believe me.” He turned to Vax.

“Don’t shoot, for the love of God!”

“Mr. Vishinsky!” In a moment the master-at-arms came into the cell. “This man may cooperate. Question him. I want to know about the miners’ committee and when they shuttle to the station. Also the station layout. If he lies--if his story is any different from those other three--break off immediately and call me.”

I left. Vax followed.

As we walked back to the bridge Vax asked, “Sir, what would you have done if he’d lied?” I stopped, twitched my finger. He shuddered.

“Take the pistol out of your belt. Aim it at the deck.” Vax complied, troubled. “Burn through the deck plates. That’s an order.”

“Aye aye, sir.” With a dubious glance Vax tightened his finger on the trigger. The pistol beeped, indicating its empty charge. I held out my hand. He placed the pistol in it. I went to the bridge.

Hours passed quickly. Crews were busy tracing and splicing electrical connections where lasers had burned our wiring.

Derek and Alexi soothed frightened passengers and escorted them back to their cabins, helping with the cleanup.

Three of our passengers had been killed by the intruders.

Two more had died from decompression, unable to get into their suits in time. Among them was Sarah Butler, the pleasant young lady who had shared my table.

Three of our enlisted men were dead. And one officer.

All in all, we were lucky it hadn’t been more. Fortunately, the invaders aimed to take over Hibernia,not destroy her.

Sandy had tried to slap shut the airlock control; they’d burned him where he stood. If his clothing hadn’t caught in the lock panel, he’d have been swept out in the decompression when I broke the ship free. The other crewmen who’d died were among our fighting parties.

On the bridge, I sat next to Vax in my soft armchair, trying to come to terms with my folly. It is always too late to do the obvious. Sandy’s accusing, sightless face floated just beyond my reach. I wondered if I would ever be free of it.

I thumbed the caller. “Mr. Carr, Mr. Tamarov. Report to the bridge.”

In a few moments the midshipmen strode in, came to attention. I released them. “Plot our course back to the station. A bow-on approach to their upper airlock from two kilometers out. Check your coordinates against Darla’s solution.” They scrambled to work, while I sat brooding. Vax watched with concern from the first officer’s seat.

A thought surfaced. “Vax, where’s Cadet Fuentes?”

“In the mess helping Mr. Browning.”

“How’d he end up there?”

“He was with me at the forward lock when trouble broke out. I sent him to guard the wardroom.”

“Ah.” The wardroom on Level 1 didn’t need guarding, and the puny cadet was hardly fit to protect it. Vax had sent Ricky out of harm’s way.

Vax reddened. “Yes, sir. After things calmed down I called him to help Mr. Browning.”

“Very well.” I was glad of it. I’d killed enough children this day.

The midshipmen brought me a course plot; I had Vax check it. This time, for once, I would rely on their calculations. My head ached despite Dr. Uburu’s healing salve, or perhaps because of it.

We fired bursts of auxiliary engine power to return us to Miningcamp Station. Lethargic, I let Vax take the conn. After an hour we fired our retro thrusters to avoid overshooting.

It was time. I picked up the caller, feeling foolish. When had the order I was going to give been heard on a U.N. vessel, except in drill? “All hands to Battle Stations!” I hit the klaxon; the horn blared insistently.

Throughout the ship men and women streamed to their duty stations from the crew berths, from the head, from mess hall, from the repair crews. All nonessential systems were abruptly shut down. Hydroponics and recyclers were set to automatic.

Every instrument in the engine room was double staffed, as the engine room crew brought the full potential of our fusion engines on-line to power Hibernia’slasers.

The comm room was crowded with ratings manning their instruments, watching for hostile laser or missile fire. Laser defense crews stood ready. Special ports in Hibernia’snose were opened to deploy the gossamer shields designed to deflect incoming lasers.

I knew our laser shields were an unnecessary precaution, as orbiting stations weren’t fitted with laser cannon. Miningcamp Station, sixty-three light-years from Earth and six from Hope Nation, was visited only by Naval ships; no other vessels sailed interstellar. Who would attack Miningcamp? My caller was set to approach frequency. “Attention Miningcamp Station. This is U.N.S. Hibernia,Captain Nicholas Seafort commanding. Acknowledge!”