"midday" meal. Josh had taken his first bite when the lounge was filled with the eerie, hair-raising clangor of the ship's emergency alarm. He was out the door in one leap.

As he ran the few steps to the bridge, he felt the ship lurch. Kirsty Girard was at the controls, punching evasive maneuvers into the computer.

"We are under attack, Captain," the navigator said.

"Weapons control," said a crisp, businesslike voice. "Missiles have been fired. Six incoming. Vectors—"

"Shields up," Josh ordered.

A tingling sensation at the back of his neck told him that the computer had responded to the order.

"Weapons," Josh barked, "have you determined the origin of the missiles?"

"That is affirmative," Weapons said. "View-screen three, sir."

Josh lifted his head. On the screen, made small by distance, was a compact vessel with lines that were unfamiliar. The Erin Kenner lurched again, seeking more room to maneuver in near space.

"Generator ready?" Josh asked.

"Full charge, sir," said the voice of the chief engineer.

"Navigator, blink set?"

"Yes, sir," Kirsty Girard said.

If things got too hot, the Erin Kenner could simply disappear to safety a few light-years away.

"Missiles incoming," weapons said. "Range five miles."

"You may take counteraction when ready, Weapons," Josh said.

Angela took Kirsty Girard's place at the controls. The navigator went back to her station.

"Range to alien craft?" Josh asked.

"Twenty miles and closing," Weapons said.

"At ten miles try her with a disrupter," Josh ordered.

"Aye, sir," said Weapons. "Disrupter armed and ready. Counteraction underway."

"Give me a close-up of those missiles," Josh said to Kirsty.

At first they were just tiny dots on the screen. Girard fiddled with the optics and one of the missiles sprang into the forefront. It was sleek and deadly looking as if it had been designed to be fired in atmosphere and not in the vacuum of space. There were no markings visible. The warhead cone was rounded, streamlined. Suddenly the image of the missile wasreplaced by a flower of red fire, and in quick succession there were five other explosions. The screen was clear.

"Incoming missiles destroyed, sir," Weapons reported.

"Show me the ship," Josh said.

The navigator had the attacker on the big screen. Like the missiles she had fired, the ship seemed to have been designed for flight within an atmosphere. Her metal was dark and, as with the missiles, there were no markings visible.

"Weapons, sir. We have disrupter range."

"Hold on," Josh said. "Kirsty, what do you read?"

"You're not going to believe this, sir."

"Try me."

"My detectors say she's got a hydrogen fusion plant."

"Interesting," Josh said. "It's been almost a thousand years since fusion engines were in use." He looked at Angela. Her face was set as she gave her full attention to the controls. "All right, Weapons, let's see if we can cool this fellow's jets a bit."

On the screen a shimmer of orange fire engulfed the oncoming vessel. It lasted for only a split second.

"Kirsty?" Josh asked.

"She reads dead, sir," Kirsty said. "No electrical currents. The fusion reaction has ceased."

"Weapons, stand by for close approach. Tractor beam ready," Josh said.

Angela's tongue was in the corner of her mouth as she edged the Erin Kenner into proximity with the alien ship. A close up view told them nothing more about the attacker. There were no visible viewports, no locks, no apparent access to the smooth, squat hull.

"Got her," said Weapons. "Tractor beam in place."

"All right, Science Officer," Josh said, "she's all yours. Let's see what's inside. Weapons, lasers ready at all times, if you please. Don't wait for my order. If she so much as wiggles, open fire immediately."

"Lasers ready and on target, sir," said Weapons.

"I'm getting penetration, sir," Kirsty Girard said. "It's rather odd."

"How odd?" Josh asked.

"Sir, there are no spaces inside the ship."

"Explain," Josh said.

"The entire area of the interior is filled solidly. I was wondering how she could have a fusion engine in such a small hull. It's possible because there are no open areas, no space for crew."

"A drone?" Josh asked.

"Lots of complicated circuitry, sir. It's a good guess that she's remote controlled."

"Weapons?"

"The only empty spaces I can find are the size of the six missiles she fired," Kirsty said. "I get no reading of explosive warheads."

"Nuclear material?" Josh asked, thinking that it was logical, since the ship ran on fusion power, that she'd carry nukes.

"None, sir."

"All right," Josh said. "Weapons, you're still on full alert. Science, continue your probes. Let me know if you come up with anything else of interest. Hold where we are until we've examined this beast fully. When you're convinced that you know all of her secrets, let me know and we'll think about having a closer look."

In the lounge, Angela asked, "You're going out when Science finishes probing and testing?"

"I want to see what's inside her," Josh said.

"I'll go with you, of course," Angela said.

"It would be unwise to put both the ship's captain and the first mate at risk at the same time," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Sorry."

"Angel, it was a damned primitive and pitiful attack," he said, as he pushed his hair back with one hand. "And a fusion engine?"

"Anachronistic," she said.

"Captain," said Kirsty Girard on the ship's communicator, "it's all clear to board the alien."

"Thank you, Kirsty," Josh said. "Tell the ship's machinist to suit up and test my suit. We'll need two molecular disrupters."

"Weapons?" Girard asked,

"Side arms only."

Pat Barkley, the ship's machinist, was waiting in the starboard air lock, bulky in E.V.A. gear. Angela helped Josh into his suit, closed the inner hatch, leaving the two men alone. Air hissed out of the lock and the outer hatch opened. Josh led the way out, spinning slightly when the awkward molecular disrupter caught on the side of the lock. The alien ship was just twenty feet away. Josh kicked over, moving very slowly, broke his movement with his right hand against the dark metal of the alien, said,

"Ouch, damnit," because, slow as he was moving, inertial force put a strain on his wrist, causing it to pop painfully. Pat Barkley landed lightly beside him, taking up the shock with his knees.

Josh secured his disrupter and released the umbilical that had attached him to the Erin Kenner. Barkley followed suit. Both men then secured themselves to the alien with a magnetic clamp attached to a line fed from the suit's belt and began to crawl over the hull of the small ship. She was the size of the Erin Kenner's launch.

"Recognize the alloy?" Josh asked Barkley.

"No, sir," Barkley said.

There were no visible seams. The ship's hull was as smooth as an egg, and as integrated. Josh ordered the Erin Kenner to move away to a safe distance.

"Okay, Pat," Josh said, picking up his cutting torch, "let's see what she's made of."

They worked side by side. The object was to cut out a square of metal from the ship's hull without damaging the tightly packed electronics inside. Josh fired off his disrupter, aimed the beam at the ship's metal, and saw it being reflected outward in a flaring flower.

"Whoa," Pat Barkley said. "What have we here?"

"You tell me," Josh said.

"Whatever it is, it's damned strong," Pat said. "And it would resist the heat at the surface of a star. Hold on, sir, and let me try another setting."

Pat adjusted his instrument, making the beam so fine that it could split atoms. The force no longer flared out. Slowly a small cut was being made in the odd metal. Pat gave the captain the setting. Josh began his own cut three feet away and parallel to Pat's.