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downs that were surely； inevitably； killing him。
A month more； the medic had said。 Two at the most。
More than half of that month had passed by the time he made planetfall on Coranex。 Keill had almost begun looking forward to the end … not only as a release from the pain。 It would also release him from the dreams that came to torment his nights； in which he re…lived the terrible day when he thought he was rushing to his planet's aid and found he had e to join it only in death。
And it would release him from the despair which came with the growing realization that his search for other legionary survivors seemed more and more hopeless。
But now 。 。 。 hope had revived。 If the man called Crask had been speaking the truth； he was only hours from a meeting with other survivors； and perhaps some answers to the questions that plagued him as fiercely as the pain。
（The flavour of that anticipation reached into the dream； filled it； changed its nature。 The tense movements of his closed eyes dwindled as the dream images fragmented again and scattered。 For the first time in weeks； Keill sank deeper into a peaceful； undisturbed sleep。 And his ship plunged on through nothingness； towards a planet called Saltrenius。）
The spaceport at Saltrenius might have been the port at Coranex … the same plasticrete surface； scarred and crumbled here and there from shoddy maintenance and the batterings of a thousand ships … the same low； shabby buildings where bored officials scanned identification； took details； yawningly accepted landing fees。
Even the town clustered near the port might have been transplanted from Coranex and all the other small； unimportant worlds like it。 Of course there were differences： the shape of the buildings； the appearance and dress of the people。 Saltrenius was grimier than most worlds； for much of the planet was devoted to gathering and processing a dusty residue from the bark of a native plant； used on many worlds in medical pounds。 The dust； Keill found； was everywhere …especially； it seemed； on the usual assortment of dingy buildings devoted to the less choosy pleasure…seekers among space travellers。
This time； though； Keill avoided those streets。 He was looking for a different source of information … local facts； this time； rather than space talk。 Every world naturally had its own forms of munications media … holo…screen or the more out…dated ultravid。 The media people were the ones most likely to know what he needed to know。
A few questions； and he located the building he wanted； which housed the local office of the munications network。 Squat； grey and dull the building was； and Keill spared it hardly a glance。 A few more questions； a few galacs changing hands； and a secretary was going in search of a network newsman。 'Just the man you want；' Keill had been told。 'Knows everything going on in Saltrenius。'
Only minutes later Keill was sitting in a noisy； crowded reception area； with a beaker of some unidentifiable fluid before him； while across the table a grey old man who said his name was Xann Exur was gulping a similar beakerful with every sign of deep enjoyment。
At last the beaker was set down； empty。 Keill； his own still untasted； signalled a bartender for another； then looked hopefully at the old man。
Exur wiped his lips； loose grey flesh wobbling at jowl and throat。 'Sure I can help you； boy。 Glad to。 Always thought well of the Legions … terrible thing that happened。'
Keill nodded； waiting。
The old man leaned forward。 In his eyes shone the eternal hope of a professional newsman scenting a story。 'Any ideas yourself how it happened ？'
Keill shook his head。 'If you can tell me what I want to know； I might be on the way to some ideas。 But I haven't much time。'
Exur looked disappointed。 'Ah well； imagine it'll all e out someday。' His second drink came； and he was about to gulp it in the wake of the first when Keill leaned forward and took hold of the skinny wrist。 The grip was light； but the old man did not fail to sense the steely strength within those fingers。
'I said I haven't much time；' Keill said quietly。
'Oh； right； sure；' Exur said rapidly。 'Like I said； glad to help。 What's happened is this 。。。'
Keill released his grip and listened patiently as the old man told his rambling tale。 Three men in legionary uniform had e to Saltrenius； a month or so earlier。 They had picked up supplies； and had spent some time in the town； where Exur had heard of their presence and had spoken to them。
The three had confirmed that Moros was destroyed； and that they might be the last living members of the Legions。 But in case they weren't； they had been spreading the word round the spaceways。 They were planning to set up a base； so that if there were other survivors they too could make their way to Saltrenius and join their fellows。
'Did they say why they had chosen this place ？' Keill asked。
'Nope。 And I didn't press them。 They didn't mind talking to me； telling me their story； but they didn't like too many questions。 Especially the big fella。'
'But did you find out where this base is ？'
'Sure。' The old man grinned； pleased with himself。 'On Creffa。'
'Creffa？'
Exur waved a skinny hand in the air。 'One of our moons。 Saltrenius's got two。'
Keill looked baffled。 Why a moon ？ Why Saltrenius at all ？ And the old man read his expression correctly。
'Yep； I wondered why Creffa too。 Didn't like to ask； by then； but they told me。 There's an old space…dome out there； built when we were exploring the moons； years back。 They're fixing it up to be their base。 Guess they like to keep themselves to themselves。'
Keill was still slightly puzzled； but at least that part made sense。 Moros had； after all； been attacked。 The attacker； whoever it might be； was still around somewhere。 A handful of legionaries would think first of setting up a base that was at once remote and defensible。 A dome on an airless moon might do very well。
'Then they're still there ？' he asked。
'Sure；' Exur said。 'Been seen just recently； down here。 They e down now and then to pick up stuff they need。'
'And there's no doubt in your mind that they're legionaries ？'
'Well； they said they were； that's all I can say。 And they were wearing uniforms like yours； with that blue circle thing。' The old man paused。 'All except that big fella 。。。'
'What about him？'
Exur chortled。 'He didn't seem to like clothes too much。 Oh； he had on the pants and boots like yours … but he always went round stripped to the waist。 Still； reckon if I had muscles like him I'd show 'em off too。'
Keill frowned； then reached up to undo the top fasteners of his tunic。 From round his neck he drew a light metal chain； from which dangled a disc of hard plastic。 He held out the disc in the palm of his hand。
'Was the big man wearing one of these？' he asked。
Exur studied the disc with interest。 Around its edge was the brilliant blue circlet that was the Legion insignia。 Within it； embedded deep in the plastic； were coded shapes … which； to other legionraies； would reveal Keill's place of origin on Moros and his rank in the Legions。 There was also a tiny but perfectly clear three…dimensional colour image of Keill's face。
'Now I never saw one of those before；' Exur said。 'Identification； is it ？'
Keill nodded。 'Every legionary has one。 And each disc is chemically tuned to the physical make…up of its owner。 No one can wear anyone else's； and they're hard to forge。 Here。'
He placed the disc in the old man's hand。 At once the sky…blue circlet began to alter … darkening； shifting； until in seconds it glowed a deep； almost angry red。
Exur stared； fascinated。 'Nice bit of work； that。 Interesting。' He handed back the disc … which returned to its normal blue as Keill took it and slipped the chain round his neck again。 'Anyway；' the old man went on； 'the big fella definitely didn't have one of them。'
'Are you sure ？'
'Course。 Man's got a chest like a wall。 Didn't have any decorations on it。' Again a pause。 'Except for the markings。'
'Markings ？'
'Yep … like tattoos； maybe； or like scars； except they were too neat and even。 Raised ridges of skin； like … one round his neck； one round his belly。' A skinny finger demonstrated。 'Legionaries have them； too ？'
'No；' Keill said thoughtfully。 'Nothing like that。'
The old man's eyes sparkled with curiosity。 'Are you thinking that these fellas aren't real legionaries ？'
'I don't know what I'm thinking。 But this big man did say he was 。。。 ？'
'Yep。 He did most of the talking。 Lot of laughing； too。 Not very pleasant。 Made me downright nervous …I was glad to get away； I can tell you。'
Keill nodded； and stood up。 'I'm grateful for your help； Xann Exur … more than I can say。 I wish I'd met you sooner。
I'm deeply in your debt； and I doubt if I'll be able to repay it。' As if to echo his words； the pain stabbed through him more savagely than ever。
But the old man noticed nothing。 'My pleasure； son； and my job。 I'm a newsman； and you could be news。 If you find out those fellas are fakes； let me know； will you ？'
Keill smiled grimly。 'If they really are legionaries； I'll let you know。 If they're not … then I'll probably be too busy； for a while。'
Chapt