Thank you for checking out this book by Theophania Publishing. We appreciate your business and look forward to serving you soon. We have thousands of titles available, and we invite you to search for us by name, contact us via our website, or download our most recent catalogues. YOUNG CAPTAIN BORS-who impatiently refused to be called anything else-was strangely occupied when the communicator buzzed. He'd ripped away the cord about a thick parcel of documents and heaved them into the fireplace of the office of the Minister for Diplomatic Affairs. A fire burned there, and already there were many ashes. The carpet and the chairs of the cabinet officer's sanctum were coated with fine white dust. As the communicator buzzed again, Captain Bors took a fireplace tool and stirred the close-packed papers to looseness. They caught and burned instead of only smouldering. The communicator buzzed yet again. He brushed off his hands and pressed the answer-stud. He said bleakly: "Diplomatic Affairs. Bors speaking." The communicator relayed a voice from somewhere else with an astonishing fidelity of tone. "Spaceport, sir. A ship just broke out of overdrive. We don't identify its type. One ship only, sir." Bors said grimly; "You'd recognize a liner. If it's a ship from the Mekinese fleet and stays alone, it could be coming to receive our surrender. In that case play for time and notify me."