out of action in less than a minute. Ward cursed and slammed the rail. Damned planet! Damned Grimnal! Damned everything! Tahn coughed beside him. And damned coughing!

"There is more news," Tahn said quietly. "We just fished out a glider flyer who had returned from cruising Pelo Head."

Ward turned. There seemed to be a smile flickering on Tahn's swarthy face.

"He says there is a great Grimnal force coming into the Break from the north. Sixteen firsts, eighteen seconds and ten frigates. There are no corvettes."

Ward's whole body seemed to tighten. Thanks to a damned wind the trap was sprung.

"Can they come through the Break?" he asked, more to stall for time than gain information. Tahn coughed three times.

"It is a brave thing to do. Even for Kali it would be brave. It is bad water in the Break. The wind goes up; the current comes down. It is slow, but it can be done."

"How slow?"

Tahn tilted his head, stared at where the slice of the Break was barely visible on the horizon, and shrugged, almost.

"Maybe—uh—two hours. Maybe more." He coughed. "Maybe less."

Ward glared at the crippled ships.

"And they would try it at night?"

Tahn coughed assent.

"There will be a good moon. I would try it."

Damn. Forces from three sides that, united, would blow them right out of the water. They could meet any of them alone, but....

"If we could slip south," he pondered aloud, "we could—"

Tahn snarled, his face an unearthly mask in the dimming light. His breath whistled between his teeth.

"You polasti!" he hissed. Ward straightened and faced him. The Kali around froze in their tracks. Polasti was the foulest word in their language.

"Kali have died in this water just now," Tahn was barely able to manage his 

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