There were no stars. The ruined landing field was lit by dancing shadows from a huge bonfire. With forlorn, hollow eyes the broken towers looked down upon the field, the leaping flames, and the one battered space boat. Beyond the dancing fire the night waited threateningly. In the shadow of one of the rickety towers a man huddled before a tiny flame and now and then turned his attention to a bubbling pot that hung from a forked stick above the coals. He was lean and broad-shouldered. The flicker