"Naturally." "We removed the charges before the guns were used." "And Carver Janssen's case?" "He'll get it back when he's shuttled to Antheon. And all the other items will be returned. They're all tagged with their owner's names. Captain Branson will say they were found somewhere on the ship. You see, I was a liar." "How about that assault on June Failright?" Critten grinned again. "She played right into our hands. She ran out into the hall claiming I'd attacked her, which I did not. She was certainly amazed when the ship's physicians agreed with her. Of course Captain Branson told them to do that." "And the murder?" "Raymond Palugger died in the hospital all right, but he died from his illness on the operating table. We turned it into an advantage by making it look suspicious." Ellason brightened. "And by that time everybody was seeing Red Mask everywhere and the colonists organized against him." "Gave them something to do," Branson said. "Every time things got dull, I livened them up. I got a stunner and robbed along the corridor. That really stirred them. Lucky nobody got hurt during any of it, including that Stoneman woman. I was trying to rob her when she woke up." Branson cleared his throat. "Ah, Ellason about that story. You understand you can't write it, don't you?" Ellason said regretfully that he did understand. "The colonists will never know the truth," Branson went on. "There will be other ships outward bound." Critten sighed. "And I'll have to be caught again." Yes, we're anonymous, nameless, we Nillys, for that's what we call each other, and are a theme, with variations, in the endless stretches of deep space, objects of hatred and contempt, professional heels, dying once a trip when the time is ripe, antidote to boredom, and we'll ply our trade, our little tragedies, on a thousand ships bringing humanity to new worlds.