THE COSMIC COMPUTER

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of freight lately. I guess I don't have to tell you about Litchfield."

"Maybe you do. I've been away for six years. Tell me, are they having
labor trouble now?"

"Labor trouble?" The mate was surprised. "You mean with the farm-tramps?
Ten of them for every job, if you call that trouble."

"Well, I noticed you have steel gratings over the gangway heads to the
lower deck, and all your crewmen are armed. Not just pistols, either."

"Oh. That's on account of pirates."

"Pirates?" Conn echoed.

"Well, I guess you'd call them that. A gang'll come aboard, dressed like
farm-tramps; they'll have tommy guns and sawed-off shotguns in their