3
n," came the voice from the tower. "You've got clearance."
"Cheers," Preston said, and yanked the blast-lever. The ship jolted upward, and for a second he felt a little of the old thrill--until he remembered.
He took the ship out in space, saw the blackness in the viewplate. The radio crackled.
"Come in, Postal Ship. Come in, Postal Ship."
"I'm in. What do you want?"
"We're your convoy," a hard voice said. "Patrol Ship 08756, Lieutenant Mellors, above you. Down at three o'clock, Patrol Ship 10732, Lieutenant Gunderson. We'll take you through the Pirate Belt."
Preston felt his face go hot with shame. Mellors! Gunderson! They would stick two of his old sidekicks on the job of guarding him.
"Please acknowledge," Mellors said.
[Illustration: "The iceworms were not expecting any mail--just the mailman."]
Preston paused. Then: "Postal Ship 1872, Lieutenant Preston aboard. I acknowledge message."
There was a stunned silence. "Preston? Hal Preston?"
"The one and only," Preston said.
"What are you doing on a Postal ship?" Mellors asked.
"Why don't you ask the Chief that? He's the one who yanked me out of the Patrol and put me here."
"Can you beat that?" Gunderson asked incredulously. "Hal Preston, on a Postal ship."
"Yeah. Incredible, isn't it?" Preston asked bitterly. "You can't believe your ears. Well, you better believe it, because here I am."
"Must be some clerical error," Gunderson said.
"Let's change the subject," Preston snapped.
They were silent for a few moments, as the three ships--two armed, one loaded with mail for Ganymede--streaked outward away from Earth. Manipulating his controls with the ease of long experience, Preston guided the ship smoothly toward the gleaming bulk of far-off Jupiter. Even at this distance, he could see five or six bright pips surrounding the huge planet. There was Callisto, and--ah--there was Ganymede.
He made computations, checked his controls