Lake put the parchment sheets back together in their proper order. “Sometimes,” he said, “a ship’s officer has to do things that are contrary to all his own wishes.”

Schroeder drew a deep breath, his face sombre with the memories he had kept to himself.

“It was two years ago when the Gerns were still talking friendship to the Earth government while they shoved the colonists around on Venus. This Gern⁠ ⁠… there was a girl there and he thought he could do what he wanted to her because he was a mighty Gern and she was nothing. He did. That’s why I killed him. I had to kill two Venusian police to get away⁠—that’s where I put the rope around my neck.”

“It’s not what we did but what we do that we’ll live or die by on Ragnarok,” Lake said. He handed Schroeder the sheets of parchment. “Tell Craig to make at least four copies of this. Someday our knowledge of Gern blasters may be something else we’ll live or die by.”