distance some of them could be recognized as pieces of equipment from the unfortunate Gomeisa. The guards closed around the group of human beings and proceeded at the pace set by the captain, leaving the Vegan prisoner to follow at his own speed. It was evident that a thorough job of looting had been done on the Terrestrial warship. Food and medical supplies, bunks, kitchen equipment, blankets and miscellaneous items of field apparatus were included in the half dozen heaps laid out beneath the glistening black walls. Mixed in with the rest were hand tools and weapons, and Albee, in spite of the Vegan's warning, began promptly to make plans. At his orders, each of the men dragged a shoulder pack out of one of the piles and began filling it with containers of food and drink. The pile of lime-juice bottles was pointedly ignored until Albee, glancing at it, noticed that one case of bottles was not green in color. He went over for a closer look, then extracted one of the plastic containers, opened it and sniffed. His voice, as he turned to the watching men, was just a little louder than usual: "Would anyone know where they found this stuff?" His eyes wandered over the faces of the crew. It was Sergeant Goldthwaite who finally answered, hesitantly. "They might have looked between the bulkheads at the cap end of the storage room, cap'n. It was pretty cool there, and seemed like a good place--" "Not too easy to visit often, in flight," remarked the captain quizzically. "I never visited it, sir--you can see it hasn't been touched. But you said we would probably touch at Ardome, and I was thinking it might be possible to get rid of it there." "It probably would. But they have good customs inspectors, and war vessels aren't immune to search. I shudder to think of what would have happened to our reputation if we had made Ardome. Consider yourself responsible for this stuff." The sergeant gulped. The case of liquor weighed eighty pounds, and could not possibly be crammed into a shoulder pack. He realized gloomily that the captain had inflicted about the only possible punishment, under the circumstances. He put five of the bottles into his pack and began a series of experiments to find out which way his arms went most easily around the case. A small group of pentapods regarded the