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together. That sharp retreat must have given Sim the idea that his opponent's nerve was breaking, for now he bored in with a wild whirlwind of blows. There came the moment Kana had waited for, his cane drew a torturing line across Sim's sword arm just below the shoulder. And, more unprepared than Kana had been, the older man cried out, clawing at the red welt, his cane rolling across the floor to strike against Kana's boot. The recruit brought his stick up in formal salute.
    "Satisfied?" He asked the traditional question.
    Sim was speechless with pain as he nodded, though the hatred in his small eyes fought with the agony of his hurt. Since he could no longer hold his weapon he must concede, but he was far from satisfied.
    Kana became aware of the buzz of talk about them. Snatches of conversation informed him that these connoisseurs were discussing his exploit from every possible angle. He dropped his cane to the floor and raised his hand to the burn on his jaw.
    "Don't touch that, you young fool!" snapped the voice of authority. The young man who had provided the canes pushed Kana's hand away and began dabbing delicately at the welt with a yellow grease. As it spread across the reddened skin Kana felt a coolness draw out the fire. He stood patiently while they doctored the slash on his side and then shrugged into the shirt Mic brought him.
    "All right, all right!" Hansu's deep growl cut through and across the din. "The show's over—"
    But as the others shuffled back into line the Swordtan stood between Kana and Sim, eyeing them both with a steel-based coldness. "For brawling in barracks," he announced, "three days' field pay fine! And if either of you have any clever ideas about trying it again—you'll deal with me!"
    Kana, unable to don his helmet because of his jaw, gave ready agreement to keep the peace, and Sim's mumble was also accepted.
    "You—Lozt, go in with Daw." Hansu jerked a thumb to the end of the line. And Sim, nursing his limp arm, obediently passed Bogate to take the indicated place beside a dark, wiry veteran. Kana remained where he was.
    "I'll answer for this one," the younger veteran spoke up and Kana sensed that this had been decided between his two superiors. Still uninformed as to who his partner was, he followed along.
    "Mills and Karr," Hansu set them down together on the muster roll as members of the team he himself commanded.
    "Mills"—there was something familiar in that name. Kana went back to claim his bag trying to recall where he had heard it before and ran into a highly excited Mic and an equally amazed Rey.
    "Let me touch you," Mic greeted him. "Maybe some of that luck will rub off. I can sure use it!"
    "You must have been born with a sword in your hand and a star in your mouth!" contributed Rey. "How do you rate Deke Mills for a double, greenie?"
    Deke Mills! Again that name almost rang a gong, but still he couldn't remember.
    "Great Blades!" Mic's eyes and mouth were circles of astonishment. "I don't believe he knows what has happened to him! Somebody ought to teach greenies the facts of life before they ship them out into the cruel, cold world. Deke Mills, fella, is a star-double-star. He's nudging people like Hansu for top honors. Space, he could have his pick of doubles out of the whole Horde! He might have partnered Hansu if Yorke hadn't insisted that Trig command a team."
    Kana swallowed. "But why—" His mouth was suddenly dry.
    "Not for your pretty blue eyes anyway," Mic told him. "He was unattached and so were you. Yorke's rule is a vet with a greenie where there's last minute choosing to be done. You're lucky in that you were at the right place at the right time. Lucky, you're dripping with the stuff!"
    "I'd rather stay with you two." Kana spoke the truth. To double with a notable such as Deke Mills was the last thing he wished. He would do everything wrong, and all his mistakes would be magnified in such exalted company. At that moment he would almost rather have walked beside