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"What can an investigation prove?" snorted Brett.

"I don't know. Walters and Strong are pretty smart cookies."

"Unless they have witnesses that you were messing around Kit Barnard's ship, which they don't, and unless they find out about Ross, which they won't, there isn't anything they can do."

Miles looked down at the shorter man beside him. "Ross, eh?" He laughed.

Brett stared at him and then shrugged. "I always get mixed up," he said. "But you know what I mean."

"Sure, I know." Miles turned to watch Astro and Tom start up the stairs to the balcony, the lead boxes on their shoulders. "What are you going to do with them?" he said.

"Take them to the hide-out and decide later. Besides, they'll be handy for unloading the ship."

"Good idea," nodded Miles. He took a deep breath and smiled. "I sure wish I could see Walters' face when he learns about the new load of uranium that'll flood the market."

Brett laughed. "Yeah, and with the customs clearance we'll get to haul in the crystal, there'll be no way they can figure out how it's getting in."

Miles turned and shouted at the two cadets struggling up the stairs. "Come on, you two. Get a move on."

"We're making it as fast as we can, Miles," Astro protested.

"It ain't fast enough," sneered the spaceman. He reached out with his free hand and slapped Astro across the mouth. "That's just to remind you to watch your tongue, or you might wind up an icicle again."

Astro dropped the box and crouched, his big frame ready to be released like a coiled spring. Miles backed up and fingered the trigger on the ray gun. "Come on, stupid," he snarled. "Come on, I'll give it to you again, only this time—" He smiled.

"No, Astro," called Tom. "There's nothing we can do now. No use getting frozen again."

"That's using your head, Corbett." Miles laughed. "Pick up that box and get going."

Astro picked up the lead box again and staggered after Tom toward the door. Miles and Brett stepped back, guns ready, and watched the two cadets walk slowly ahead of them into the tunnel.

* * * * *

Captain Strong and Sergeant Morgan crept to the side of the warehouse and flattened themselves against the wall. With the gas swirling around them thicker than ever, they found it more difficult than ever to see where they were going.

"I think I see a door ahead," said Strong.

"Want me to see if it'll open, sir?" asked Morgan.

"No. I'll look around in the warehouse," replied the Solar Guard captain. "You investigate the ship. If anyone's aboard, keep him there until I contact you. If not, come back here and wait for me."

"Very well, sir," said Morgan, and turned toward the black ship. In a moment he was lost in the deadly mist.

Strong made his way to the door and twisted the latch. The door slid open easily, and he stepped inside, closing it behind him and waiting for some signs of life or movement. The gas was like a thick fog in the room and he inched his way forward, hands outstretched like a blind person. Gradually he began to see the vague form of a door on the opposite wall and he made his way toward it, completely unaware that he came within inches of falling through the open trap door in the floor.

He opened the door in the wall slowly, peering inside cautiously. He was startled to feel the faint rush of air on his hands and to see the room clear of the dangerous methane ammonia gas. He moved quickly inside and made a hurried inspection of the gear, not bothering to look to examine it closely. He shrugged his shoulders. It was just as Morgan had said. An abandoned warehouse with old mining gear and nothing else.

Suddenly he stopped. There was something strange about the room and he looked around again. The gas! There were no ammonia vapors in the room. He quickly searched along the walls for some outlet of oxygen, remembering now the rush of air he had felt as he opened the door. Close to a corner near the door, he found a small opening. Air poured out of it in a steady rush. He straightened up, his face grim. "So that's it," he said to himself. "Somebody has been