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I did not know what that dream was until Saltario came into my office a year later. He had a job for the Company.

“How many men?” I asked.

“Our Company and Rajay-Ben’s Patrol,” Saltario said.

“Full strength?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Price?”

“Standard, sir,” Saltario said. “The party will pay.”

“Just a trip to your old planet?”

“That’s all,” Saltario said. “A guard contract. The hiring party just don’t want any interference with their project.”

“Two full Companies? Forty thousand men? They must expect to need a lot of protecting.”

“United Galaxies opposes the project. Or they will if they get wind of it.”

I said, “United opposes a lot of things, what’s special about this scheme?”

Saltario hesitated, then looked at me with those flat black eyes. “Ionics.”

It’s not a word you say, or hear, without a chill somewhere deep inside. Not even me and I know a man can survive ionic weapons. I know because I did once. Weapons so powerful I’m one of the last men alive who saw them in action. Mathematically the big ones could wipe out a Galaxy. I saw a small one destroy a star in ten seconds. I watched Saltario for a long time. It seemed a long time, anyway. It was probably twenty seconds. I was wondering if he had gone space-crazy for keeps. And I was thinking of how I could find out what it was all about in time to stop it.