It was speeding along toward the date I wanted. I pushed slow.

THEN, THERE IT WAS!

Entry by entry, the whole cruise rolled off. It had left Voltar carrying Combat Engineer Jettero Heller, had proceeded to Blito-P3, surveyed it without landing and had returned. Fifteen weeks' worth of log and routine action.

Aha! This was the ship Lombar Hisst, Chief of the Apparatus, had

then grabbed at the patrol base, seizing all of its crew and sending them to Spiteos.

But none of that was in the log. It simply went blank for a bit. Then suddenly there were more entries. They started with a refit and proceeded on with routine duties.

Hastily, I found a reverse button and backed it up. The blank area had a little symbol appearing beside it on the screen. It was a green spiral. I looked at the code on the machine side and it said the symbol meant "See Fleet Intelligence."

I glanced out of the cubicle at the clerk. He was busy at something else. I addressed the console keyboard. It was not too different than a library keyboard at school. I punched the green-spiral key and then fed in the patrol-craft number.

Payoff!

PATROL CRAFT B-44-A-539-G. IN A ROUTINE CHASE OF SPACE SMUGGLERS IN COORDINATES 80/45/32, FLISTEN SECTOR, FLEET CRUISE VESSEL BAULK DISCOVERED AND REPOSSESSED SAID CRAFT.

Aha! The reason neither Gris nor anyone else could find the crash was that that crooked Death Battalion squad had sold the vessel to smugglers! They hadn't crashed it as ordered.

Wait. There were some more symbols. I deciphered that if one wanted the battle report one should punch in Fleet Cruise Vessel Baulk. But if one wanted the disposition of the patrol-craft crew, one should punch in Fleet Intelligence.

I was not interested in the battle with smugglers but I was interested in the patrol craft's crew.

In the Gris narrative, he had gone to Spiteos where the crew had been imprisoned, had gotten a prostitute and had put her and poisoned food into the cell and had supposed they would shortly all be dead.

YET HERE WAS A FLEET INTELLIGENCE REPORT ON THIS CREW!

Believe me, I lost no time punching it in! '

And here it came!

CONFIDENTIAL

From: Craftleader Soams, Patrol Craft B-44-A-539-G

To: Fleet Intelligence Officer Bis

SIR! Pursuant to your request that I make a report to you in full, it is my pleasure and duty to do so.

SIR! When we received emergency orders to take off, we boarded our craft and went skyward. Fifteen men of the Apparatus Death Battalion suddenly emerged from hiding in the ship and overpowered us.

SIR! There is an Apparatus fortress two hundred miles across the Great Desert which is not on our charts. It is a black castle generally supposed to be a primitive ruin. But it is totally policed and defended.

SIR! The twenty of us, names attached, were incarcerated contrary to all regulations. We were stripped naked and thrown in an underground cell.

SIR! We would have starved to death had it not been for our skill in catching vermin.

SIR! We would have died of thirst had it not been for underground water leakage.

After some days we were approached by a General Services officer, brown hair, brown eyes, who did not identify himself.

SIR! He wanted information concerning our cruise to Blito-P3 and, in particular, data concerning JETTERO HELLER, Royal officer, who was nominally in command of the survey we undertook of said unconquered planet. In particular, he wanted to know any weaknesses of said Royal officer, Heller.

SIR! He tried to bribe us with food, money and then a prostitute. Recognizing that he was a "drunk,"

we told him nothing but got the bribes out of him anyway.

The prostitute was shown to us outside the cell door and we were told we could have her if we talked. One of us spacers, a pilot from Flisten, recognized the girl as a Guaop from her eye form and long fingernails. He had learned to speak Guaop as a boy. Using that language he told her not to struggle and to come in. The "drunk" pushed her through the slot as she was not very big. She was in terrible condition. Her larynx had been removed. Although she could not talk, by using hand signals for yes and no and designs drawn in the dirt, we for the first time learned where we were. See data above.

The food was suspect so we fed some to a vermin which died horribly.

The money was examined by our finance man and was found to be counterfeit.

A magic bag which did not disclose what was in it was part of the bribes. We found out how to work it.

A pass, according to the girl, had been left for her at the guard station.

We promised the girl that if she helped us we would see that she got an artificial larynx and would be sent home to Flisten. She agreed.

A knife was made for her from one of the food cans. The medical spacer fixed her up so she looked like she had a venereal disease and would not be raped by the guards.

Under our instructions, she took the poison food out and buried it at Camp Kill. In subsequent trips in she brought us metal scraps from old wrecks, concealing them in the magic bag under sexual tricks.

Weapons were made by us.

At strike hour the girl dug up the poisoned food at Camp Kill, carried it through our guardroom, dropped the bag of it in the guardroom so that it spilled. The guards there, of course, seized it and began to open it to eat. But the girl, per plan, induced the officer to come to the cell with her, saying they would now kill her and promising him, with gestures, certain favors.

The guard officer fell into our hands. He proved, under threat, very compliant.

The guards in the guardroom had eaten the food and were dead. We dragged their bodies into our cell, stripped them and donned their uniforms. We put on riot helmets to hide our faces. When the relief guard squad came, we took care of them.

The captured officer passed us and the girl out through the tunnels.

An airbus was commandeered by the captured officer and we flew to our base. As agreed, we then let him escape and I doubt he will go near the Apparatus.

Finance for an artificial larynx and a passage to Flisten for the girl were provided by our crew so there is no Fleet expense or vouchers.

Request that I and my crew be permitted to bomb Apparatus central headquarters in Government City, as they are just "drunks" and it would be no loss.

Respectfully, SIR! Craftleader Soams

Endorsement I: File with ongoing Fleet Intelligence investigation of the Coordinated Information Apparatus.

Endorsement 2: After any necessary medical treatment, restore crew to normal operating status.

Endorsement 3: Negative on bombing Apparatus.

Developments are being watched.

Fleet Intelligence

I was in an instant, giddy whirl! . This compared exactly with the Gris confession!

There HAD been an Apparatus! There HAD been a survey of Blito-P3! 

There HAD been a planet called Earth! Oh, dear me! This WAS a gigantic cover-up! But they hadn't covered up everything!

The burned spacer said, "You got what you want in there?" I hastily folded the printouts and put them in my case. He must not know what I had gleaned. Oh, life as an investigative reporter could be very exciting! I walked out casually. I stood on the blue gravel and pondered. Where would I go, Then it came to me in a flash.

SPITEOS!

I rushed to my air-speedster and grabbed the communications mouthpiece. I called the family estate hangar-garage and got through to my mechanic.

"Shafter," I said, excitedly, "get the old air-wagon ready. I will be home to pick it up at once."

"The air-wagon!" he wailed. "Why, young Monte, that hasn't been out of the hangar for ten years! We haven't used it since we used to take you and your chums to school!"