VAL KENTON SANK ONTO his heels, unclamped his stiff fingers from the rifle. He fumbled for a cigarette, lit it, his breath hard and shallow. He felt reaction set in, and momentarily wished that he had a whiff of gailang gas to steady his nerves.
There was the clanging of metal on metal from the ship, and a man’s head came cautiously into view. It stayed that way for a moment, and then a man in the uniform of a Patrol Captain clambered out of the port.
“Good God!” the Earthman heard the Captain say, “It’s Val Kenton who was doing the damage outside!”
Val Kenton laughed then, chuckled with a dryness that was rather horrible to hear. Never, had he expected again to find himself a welcome friend of a Space Patrolman. And the fact that he had this Captain owing him gratitude struck him as ir
