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. "Gangway, man!" Ertz said gruffly.
"Yes, sir," acknowledged the guard, without moving. "Your weapons, please."
"What! Don't you know me, you idiot? I'm the Chief Engineer."
"Yes, sir. Leave your weapons with me, please. Regulations."
Ertz put a hand on the man's shoulder and shoved. The guard stood firm. "I'm sorry, sir. No one approaches the Captain wearing weapons. No one."
"Well, I'll be damned!"
"He remembers what happened to the old Captain," Hugh observed sotto voce. "He's smart." He drew his own knife and tossed it to the guard, who caught it neatly by the hilt. Ertz looked; shrugged, and handed over his own. Alan, considerably crestfallen, passed his own pair over with a look that should have shortened the guard's life.
Narby was talking; Joe-Jim was scowling on both his faces; Bobo looked puzzled, and naked, unfinished, without his ubiquitous knives and slingshot. "The matter is closed, Joe-Jim. That is my decision. I've granted you the faver of explaining my reasons, but it does not matter whether you like them or not."
"What's the trouble?" inquired Hugh.
Narby looked up. "Oh. I'm glad you came in. Your mutie friend seems to be in doubt as to who is Captain."
"What's up?"
"He," growled Jim, hooking a thumb toward Narby, "seems to think he's going to disarm all the muties."
"Well, the war's over, isn't it?"
"It wasn't agreed on. The muties were to become part of the Crew
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