September 25, 2025 • 16 mins
Losing track of a battleship may seem careless, but in the vastness of interstellar space, it‚As a different story altogether. When a misplaced battleship falls into the wrong hands, the stakes become dangerously high. Join the world-class con man and thief known as the Stainless Steel Rat (diGriz) as he faces yet another monumental challenge in this captivating science fiction novella by the legendary Harry Harrison. With humor and intrigue, diGriz must not only locate the missing vessel but also navigate through a web of unexpected twists. After all, the adage use a thief to catch a thief can lead to some surprising outcomes! (Summary from the book and Phil Chenevert)
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter one of The Misplaced Battleship by Harry Harrison. This
LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Phil
Schinevert chapter one. When it comes to picking locks and
cracking safes, I admit to no master. The door to
Endskip's private quarters had an old fashioned tumbler drum that
(00:24):
was easier to pick than my teeth. I must have
gone through that door without breaking step. Quiet as I was,
though Inskip still heard me. The lake came on, and
there he was, sitting up in bed, pointing a seventy
five caliber regardless at my sternum. You should have more
brains than that de grizz he snarled, creeping into my
(00:47):
room at night. You could have been shut. No, I couldn't,
I told him, as he stole the cannon back under
his pillow. A man with a curiosity bump as big
as yours will always talk first and shoot later. And besides,
none of this pussy footing around in the dark would
be necessary if your screen was open, and I could
(01:07):
have got a call through in skip yawned and poured
himself a glass of water from the dispenser unit above
the bed. Just because I head the special core doesn't
mean that I am the special core, he said moistily
while he drained the glass. I have to sleep sometime.
My screen is open only for emergency calls, not for
(01:29):
every agent who needs his hand held, meaning I am
in the hand holding category, I asked, with as much
sweetness as I could. Put yourself in any category you please,
he grumbled, as he slumped down in the bed, and
also put yourself out into the hall and see me
tomorrow during working hours. He was at my mercy. Really,
(01:51):
he wanted sleep so much, and he was going to
be wide awake so very soon. Do you know what
this is? I asked him, poking a large glossy pick
under his long broken nose. One eye opened slowly. Big
warship of some kind looks like Empire lines. Now for
the last time, go away, he said. A very good
(02:16):
guess for this late at night, I told him cheerily.
It is a late Empire battleship of the Warlord class,
undoubtedly one of the most truly efficient engines of destruction
ever manufactured, over a half mile of defensive screens and
armament that could probably turn any fleet existence to day
(02:37):
into fine radioactive ash, except for the fact that the
last one was broken up for scrap over a thousand
years ago, he mumbled. I leaned over and put my
lips close to his ear, so there would be no
chance of misunderstanding, speaking softly but clearly, true, True, I said,
(02:58):
But wouldn't you be just a too bit interested if
I was to tell you that one is being built today? Oh?
It was beautiful to watch. The covers went one way
and in skip went the other, in a single unfolding
in a concerted motion. He left the horizontal and recumbent
(03:18):
and stood tensely vertical against the wall, examining the pick
of the battleship under the light. He apparently did not
believe in pajama bottoms, and it hurt me to see
the goose bumps rising on those thin shanks. But if
the legs were thin, the voice was more than full
enough to make up for the difference. Talk, Blast you
(03:40):
to Griz talk, he roared, What is this nonsense about
a battleship? Who's building it? I had my nail file
out and was touching up a cuticle, holding it out
for inspection before I said anything. From the corner of
my eye, I could see him getting purple about the face,
but he kept quiet. I savored my small moment of power.
(04:02):
Put de Griz in charge of the record room for
a while. You said, that way he can learn the ropes.
Burrowing around in century old dusty files will be just
the thing for a free spirit like slippery Jim de Griz.
Teach him discipline, show him what the core stands for.
At the same time, it will get the records in shape.
(04:25):
They have been needing reorganization for quite a while. In
Skip opened his mouth, made a choking noise, then closed it.
He undoubtedly realized that any interruption would only listen my explanation,
not sharpen it. I smiled and nodded at his decision,
then continued, So you thought you had me safely out
(04:49):
of the way, breaking my spirit under the guise of
giving me a little background in the corps activities. In
this sense, your plan failed. Something else happened, and instead
I nosed through the files and found them most interesting,
particularly the C and M set up the categorizer in memory,
(05:11):
that building full of machinery that takes in and dies
news and reports from all the planets in the galaxy,
indexes it to every category you can possibly relate, then
files it great machine to work with. I had it
digging out spaceship info for me, something I've always been
interested in. You should be in skip interrupted rudely. You've
(05:34):
stolen enough of them in your time. I gave him
a hurt look and went on slowly. I won't bore
you with all the details, since you seem impatient. But
eventually I turned up this plan. He had it out
of my fingers before it cleared my wallet. What are
you getting at, he mumbled as he ran his eyes
(05:54):
over the blueprints. This is an ordinary heavy cargo and
passenger job. It's no more a war lord battleship than
I am. It is hard to curl your lips with
contempt and talk at the same time, but I succeeded.
Of course, you don't expect them to file warship plans
with the League Registry, do you? But as I said,
(06:17):
I know more than a little bit about ships. It
seemed to me this thing was just too big for
the use intended. Enough. Old ships are fuel wasters. You
don't have to build new ones to do that. This
started me thinking, and I punched for a complete list
of ships that size that had been constructed in the past.
(06:37):
You can imagine my surprise when, after three minutes of groaning,
the C and M only produced six. One was built
for self sustaining colony attempt at the Second Galaxy. For
all we know, she is still on the way. The
other five were all D class colonizers built during the
(06:57):
expansion when large pop populations were moved too big to
be practical. Now, I was still teased, as I had
no idea what a ship this large could be used for.
So I removed the time interlock on the C and
M and let it pick around through the entire history
of space to see if it could find a comparison.
(07:20):
It sure did, right at the golden age of Empire expansion,
the giant Warlord battleships. The machine even found a blueprint
for me. Endskip grabbed again and began comparing the two prints.
I leaned over his shoulder and pointed out the interesting parts.
Notice if the engine room specs are changed slightly to
(07:43):
include this cargo hold, there is plenty of room for
the brutes needed. This superstructure, obviously just tacked onto the plans,
gets thrown away and turrets take its place. The holes
are identical. A change here, a ship there, and the
stodgy freighter becomes the fast battle wagon. These changes could
(08:06):
be made during construction, then plants filed. By the time
anyone in the league found out what was being built,
the ship would be finished and launched. Of course, this
could all be coincidence, the plans of a newly built
ship agreeing to six places with those of a ship
built a thousand years ago. But if you think so,
(08:27):
I will give you one hundred to one eyds. You
are wrong. Any size bet you name. I wasn't winning
any sucker bets that night. Inskip had led just as
crooked a youth as I had, and needed no help
in smelling a fishy deal. While he pulled on his clothes,
he shot questions at me. And the name of this
(08:47):
peace loving planet that is building this bad memory from
the past? Siderneuvo, second planet of a b star in
Corona Borealis, no other colonized planets in the system. I've
heard of it, Inskip said, as we took the private
dropschoot to his office. Which may be a good or
a bad sign. Wouldn't be the first time trouble came
(09:09):
from some out of the way spot I never even
knew existed, with the automatic disregard for others of the
truly dedicated. He pressed the scramble button on his desk
very quickly. Sleepy eyed clerks and assistants were bringing files
and records. We went through them together. Modesty prevented me
from speaking first, but I had a very short wait
(09:30):
before Inskip reached the same conclusion I had. He hurled
a folder the length of the room and scowled out
at the harsh dawn light. The more I look at
this thing, he said, the fishier it gets. This planet
seems to have no possible motive or use for a battleship.
But they are building one that I will swear on
(09:51):
a stack of one thousand credit notes as high as
this building. Yet what will they do with it when
they haven't built? They have an expanding coach sure, no unemployment,
a surplus of heavy metals and ready markets for all
they produce, no hereditary enemies, fews are the like. If
it wasn't for this battleship thing, I would call them
(10:12):
an ideal league planet. I have to know more about them.
I've already called the spaceport in your name of course,
I told him, ordered a fast courier ship. I'll leave
within the hour. Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?
To grizz he said, voice chill as the ice cap.
I still give the orders, and I'll tell you when
(10:32):
you're ready for an independent command. I was sweetness and
light because a lot depended on his decision. Just trying
to help Chief get things ready in case you wanted
more info. And this isn't really an operation, just a reconnaissance.
I can do that as well as any of the
experience to operators, and it may give me the experience
(10:54):
I need so that some day I too will be
qualified to join in the ranks. All Right, he said,
Stop shoveling it on while I can still breathe Get
out there, find out what is going on, then get
back nothing else. And that's an order. By the way
he said it, I knew he thought there was little
(11:16):
chance of it happening that way. Since my first induction
into the Corps six months earlier, I had been stuck
on this super secret planetar that was its headquarters in
main base. I had very little sitting down patience anyway,
and it had been long since exhausted It had been
interesting at first, particularly since up until the time I
(11:38):
was drafted into the Special Corps, I wasn't even certain
it really existed. It was too much like a con
man's nightmare to be real, a secret worry. After a
few happy years of successful crime, you begin to wonder
how long it will last. Planetary police are all pushovers,
and you start to feel you can go on forever
(12:00):
if they're your only competition. What about the League, though,
don't they take any interesting crime. Just about that time,
you hear your first rumor of the Special Corps, and
it fits the bad dreams. A shadowy, powerful group that
slips silently between the stars, ready to bring the interstellar
(12:20):
lawbreaker low. Sounds like TV drama stuff. I had been
quite surprised to find they really existed. I was even
more surprised when I joined them. Of course, there was
a little pressure at the time. I had the alternate
choice of instant death, but I still think it was
a wise move. Under the motto set a thief to
(12:41):
catch one, the Corps supposedly make good use of men
like myself to get rid of the more antisocial types
that infest the universe. This was still all hearsay to me.
I had been pulled into headquarters and given routine administrative
work for training. Six months of this had me slightly goga,
(13:02):
and I wanted out. Since no one seemed to be
in a hurry to give me an assignment, I had
found one for myself. I had no idea what would
come of it, but I also had no intention of
returning until the job was done. Ay quick stopped its
supply in record sections gave me everything I needed. The
(13:22):
sun was barely clear of the horizon when the silver
needle of my ship lifted in the gray field, then
blasted into space. The trip took only a few days,
more than enough to memorize everything I needed to know
about Sinaneuvo, and the more I knew, the less I
understood their need for a battleship. It didn't fit. Sinaneuvo
(13:44):
was a secondary settlement out of the Cellini system, and
I had run into these settlements before. They were all
united in a loose alliance and bickered a lot among themselves,
but it never came to blows. If anything, they shared
a universal abhorrence of war, yet they were secretly building
a battleship. Since I was only chasing my tail. With
(14:05):
this line of thought, I put it out of my
mind and worked on some tri d chess problems. This
filled the time until Sirnuvo blinked into the bow screen.
One of my most effective mottoes has always been secrecy
can be an obviousity, what the magicians call misdirection. Let
(14:25):
people very obviously see what you want them to see.
Then they'll never notice what is hidden. This is why
I landed at midday on the largest field of the
planet after a very showy approach. I was already dressed
for my roll and out of the ship before the
landing braces stopped vibrating. Buckling the fur cape around my
(14:46):
shoulders with the platinum clasp, I stamped down the ramp.
The sturdy little M three robot rumbled after me with
my bags, heading directly toward the main gate. I ignored
the scurry of activity around the custom building. Only when
a uniformed under official of some kind ran over to
me did I give the field any attention. Before he
(15:08):
could talk, I did foot in the door and stay
on top. Beautiful planets. You have here, delightful climate, ideal
spot for a country home. Friendly people always willing to
help strangers and all that. I imagine that's what I like.
Makes me feel grateful, very pleased to meet you. I
am the Grand Duke sant Angelo. I shook his hand
(15:28):
enthusiastically at this point, and let a one hundred credit
note slip into his palm. Now, I added, I wonder
if you would ask the customs agents to look at
my bags here. I don't want to waste time, do we.
The ship is open, they can check that whenever they please.
My manners, clothes, jewelry, the easy way I passed money around,
(15:51):
and the luxurious sheen of my bags could mean only
one thing. There was little that was worth smuggling into
or out of, said anouvo. Certainly nothing a rich man
would be interested in. The official murmured something with a smile,
spoke a few words into his phone, and the job
was done. A small wave of custom men hung stickers
(16:14):
on my luggage, peeked into one or two for conformity's sake,
and waved me through. I shook hands all around, a
rustling hand clasp, of course. Then was on my way.
A cab was summoned, a hotel suggested. I nodded agreement,
and settled back while the robot loaded the bags. About
me end of Section one,
Chapter one of The Misplaced Battleship by Harry Harrison. This
LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Phil
Schinevert chapter one. When it comes to picking locks and
cracking safes, I admit to no master. The door to
Endskip's private quarters had an old fashioned tumbler drum that
(00:24):
was easier to pick than my teeth. I must have
gone through that door without breaking step. Quiet as I was,
though Inskip still heard me. The lake came on, and
there he was, sitting up in bed, pointing a seventy
five caliber regardless at my sternum. You should have more
brains than that de grizz he snarled, creeping into my
(00:47):
room at night. You could have been shut. No, I couldn't,
I told him, as he stole the cannon back under
his pillow. A man with a curiosity bump as big
as yours will always talk first and shoot later. And besides,
none of this pussy footing around in the dark would
be necessary if your screen was open, and I could
(01:07):
have got a call through in skip yawned and poured
himself a glass of water from the dispenser unit above
the bed. Just because I head the special core doesn't
mean that I am the special core, he said moistily
while he drained the glass. I have to sleep sometime.
My screen is open only for emergency calls, not for
(01:29):
every agent who needs his hand held, meaning I am
in the hand holding category, I asked, with as much
sweetness as I could. Put yourself in any category you please,
he grumbled, as he slumped down in the bed, and
also put yourself out into the hall and see me
tomorrow during working hours. He was at my mercy. Really,
(01:51):
he wanted sleep so much, and he was going to
be wide awake so very soon. Do you know what
this is? I asked him, poking a large glossy pick
under his long broken nose. One eye opened slowly. Big
warship of some kind looks like Empire lines. Now for
the last time, go away, he said. A very good
(02:16):
guess for this late at night, I told him cheerily.
It is a late Empire battleship of the Warlord class,
undoubtedly one of the most truly efficient engines of destruction
ever manufactured, over a half mile of defensive screens and
armament that could probably turn any fleet existence to day
(02:37):
into fine radioactive ash, except for the fact that the
last one was broken up for scrap over a thousand
years ago, he mumbled. I leaned over and put my
lips close to his ear, so there would be no
chance of misunderstanding, speaking softly but clearly, true, True, I said,
(02:58):
But wouldn't you be just a too bit interested if
I was to tell you that one is being built today? Oh?
It was beautiful to watch. The covers went one way
and in skip went the other, in a single unfolding
in a concerted motion. He left the horizontal and recumbent
(03:18):
and stood tensely vertical against the wall, examining the pick
of the battleship under the light. He apparently did not
believe in pajama bottoms, and it hurt me to see
the goose bumps rising on those thin shanks. But if
the legs were thin, the voice was more than full
enough to make up for the difference. Talk, Blast you
(03:40):
to Griz talk, he roared, What is this nonsense about
a battleship? Who's building it? I had my nail file
out and was touching up a cuticle, holding it out
for inspection before I said anything. From the corner of
my eye, I could see him getting purple about the face,
but he kept quiet. I savored my small moment of power.
(04:02):
Put de Griz in charge of the record room for
a while. You said, that way he can learn the ropes.
Burrowing around in century old dusty files will be just
the thing for a free spirit like slippery Jim de Griz.
Teach him discipline, show him what the core stands for.
At the same time, it will get the records in shape.
(04:25):
They have been needing reorganization for quite a while. In
Skip opened his mouth, made a choking noise, then closed it.
He undoubtedly realized that any interruption would only listen my explanation,
not sharpen it. I smiled and nodded at his decision,
then continued, So you thought you had me safely out
(04:49):
of the way, breaking my spirit under the guise of
giving me a little background in the corps activities. In
this sense, your plan failed. Something else happened, and instead
I nosed through the files and found them most interesting,
particularly the C and M set up the categorizer in memory,
(05:11):
that building full of machinery that takes in and dies
news and reports from all the planets in the galaxy,
indexes it to every category you can possibly relate, then
files it great machine to work with. I had it
digging out spaceship info for me, something I've always been
interested in. You should be in skip interrupted rudely. You've
(05:34):
stolen enough of them in your time. I gave him
a hurt look and went on slowly. I won't bore
you with all the details, since you seem impatient. But
eventually I turned up this plan. He had it out
of my fingers before it cleared my wallet. What are
you getting at, he mumbled as he ran his eyes
(05:54):
over the blueprints. This is an ordinary heavy cargo and
passenger job. It's no more a war lord battleship than
I am. It is hard to curl your lips with
contempt and talk at the same time, but I succeeded.
Of course, you don't expect them to file warship plans
with the League Registry, do you? But as I said,
(06:17):
I know more than a little bit about ships. It
seemed to me this thing was just too big for
the use intended. Enough. Old ships are fuel wasters. You
don't have to build new ones to do that. This
started me thinking, and I punched for a complete list
of ships that size that had been constructed in the past.
(06:37):
You can imagine my surprise when, after three minutes of groaning,
the C and M only produced six. One was built
for self sustaining colony attempt at the Second Galaxy. For
all we know, she is still on the way. The
other five were all D class colonizers built during the
(06:57):
expansion when large pop populations were moved too big to
be practical. Now, I was still teased, as I had
no idea what a ship this large could be used for.
So I removed the time interlock on the C and
M and let it pick around through the entire history
of space to see if it could find a comparison.
(07:20):
It sure did, right at the golden age of Empire expansion,
the giant Warlord battleships. The machine even found a blueprint
for me. Endskip grabbed again and began comparing the two prints.
I leaned over his shoulder and pointed out the interesting parts.
Notice if the engine room specs are changed slightly to
(07:43):
include this cargo hold, there is plenty of room for
the brutes needed. This superstructure, obviously just tacked onto the plans,
gets thrown away and turrets take its place. The holes
are identical. A change here, a ship there, and the
stodgy freighter becomes the fast battle wagon. These changes could
(08:06):
be made during construction, then plants filed. By the time
anyone in the league found out what was being built,
the ship would be finished and launched. Of course, this
could all be coincidence, the plans of a newly built
ship agreeing to six places with those of a ship
built a thousand years ago. But if you think so,
(08:27):
I will give you one hundred to one eyds. You
are wrong. Any size bet you name. I wasn't winning
any sucker bets that night. Inskip had led just as
crooked a youth as I had, and needed no help
in smelling a fishy deal. While he pulled on his clothes,
he shot questions at me. And the name of this
(08:47):
peace loving planet that is building this bad memory from
the past? Siderneuvo, second planet of a b star in
Corona Borealis, no other colonized planets in the system. I've
heard of it, Inskip said, as we took the private
dropschoot to his office. Which may be a good or
a bad sign. Wouldn't be the first time trouble came
(09:09):
from some out of the way spot I never even
knew existed, with the automatic disregard for others of the
truly dedicated. He pressed the scramble button on his desk
very quickly. Sleepy eyed clerks and assistants were bringing files
and records. We went through them together. Modesty prevented me
from speaking first, but I had a very short wait
(09:30):
before Inskip reached the same conclusion I had. He hurled
a folder the length of the room and scowled out
at the harsh dawn light. The more I look at
this thing, he said, the fishier it gets. This planet
seems to have no possible motive or use for a battleship.
But they are building one that I will swear on
(09:51):
a stack of one thousand credit notes as high as
this building. Yet what will they do with it when
they haven't built? They have an expanding coach sure, no unemployment,
a surplus of heavy metals and ready markets for all
they produce, no hereditary enemies, fews are the like. If
it wasn't for this battleship thing, I would call them
(10:12):
an ideal league planet. I have to know more about them.
I've already called the spaceport in your name of course,
I told him, ordered a fast courier ship. I'll leave
within the hour. Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?
To grizz he said, voice chill as the ice cap.
I still give the orders, and I'll tell you when
(10:32):
you're ready for an independent command. I was sweetness and
light because a lot depended on his decision. Just trying
to help Chief get things ready in case you wanted
more info. And this isn't really an operation, just a reconnaissance.
I can do that as well as any of the
experience to operators, and it may give me the experience
(10:54):
I need so that some day I too will be
qualified to join in the ranks. All Right, he said,
Stop shoveling it on while I can still breathe Get
out there, find out what is going on, then get
back nothing else. And that's an order. By the way
he said it, I knew he thought there was little
(11:16):
chance of it happening that way. Since my first induction
into the Corps six months earlier, I had been stuck
on this super secret planetar that was its headquarters in
main base. I had very little sitting down patience anyway,
and it had been long since exhausted It had been
interesting at first, particularly since up until the time I
(11:38):
was drafted into the Special Corps, I wasn't even certain
it really existed. It was too much like a con
man's nightmare to be real, a secret worry. After a
few happy years of successful crime, you begin to wonder
how long it will last. Planetary police are all pushovers,
and you start to feel you can go on forever
(12:00):
if they're your only competition. What about the League, though,
don't they take any interesting crime. Just about that time,
you hear your first rumor of the Special Corps, and
it fits the bad dreams. A shadowy, powerful group that
slips silently between the stars, ready to bring the interstellar
(12:20):
lawbreaker low. Sounds like TV drama stuff. I had been
quite surprised to find they really existed. I was even
more surprised when I joined them. Of course, there was
a little pressure at the time. I had the alternate
choice of instant death, but I still think it was
a wise move. Under the motto set a thief to
(12:41):
catch one, the Corps supposedly make good use of men
like myself to get rid of the more antisocial types
that infest the universe. This was still all hearsay to me.
I had been pulled into headquarters and given routine administrative
work for training. Six months of this had me slightly goga,
(13:02):
and I wanted out. Since no one seemed to be
in a hurry to give me an assignment, I had
found one for myself. I had no idea what would
come of it, but I also had no intention of
returning until the job was done. Ay quick stopped its
supply in record sections gave me everything I needed. The
(13:22):
sun was barely clear of the horizon when the silver
needle of my ship lifted in the gray field, then
blasted into space. The trip took only a few days,
more than enough to memorize everything I needed to know
about Sinaneuvo, and the more I knew, the less I
understood their need for a battleship. It didn't fit. Sinaneuvo
(13:44):
was a secondary settlement out of the Cellini system, and
I had run into these settlements before. They were all
united in a loose alliance and bickered a lot among themselves,
but it never came to blows. If anything, they shared
a universal abhorrence of war, yet they were secretly building
a battleship. Since I was only chasing my tail. With
(14:05):
this line of thought, I put it out of my
mind and worked on some tri d chess problems. This
filled the time until Sirnuvo blinked into the bow screen.
One of my most effective mottoes has always been secrecy
can be an obviousity, what the magicians call misdirection. Let
(14:25):
people very obviously see what you want them to see.
Then they'll never notice what is hidden. This is why
I landed at midday on the largest field of the
planet after a very showy approach. I was already dressed
for my roll and out of the ship before the
landing braces stopped vibrating. Buckling the fur cape around my
(14:46):
shoulders with the platinum clasp, I stamped down the ramp.
The sturdy little M three robot rumbled after me with
my bags, heading directly toward the main gate. I ignored
the scurry of activity around the custom building. Only when
a uniformed under official of some kind ran over to
me did I give the field any attention. Before he
(15:08):
could talk, I did foot in the door and stay
on top. Beautiful planets. You have here, delightful climate, ideal
spot for a country home. Friendly people always willing to
help strangers and all that. I imagine that's what I like.
Makes me feel grateful, very pleased to meet you. I
am the Grand Duke sant Angelo. I shook his hand
(15:28):
enthusiastically at this point, and let a one hundred credit
note slip into his palm. Now, I added, I wonder
if you would ask the customs agents to look at
my bags here. I don't want to waste time, do we.
The ship is open, they can check that whenever they please.
My manners, clothes, jewelry, the easy way I passed money around,
(15:51):
and the luxurious sheen of my bags could mean only
one thing. There was little that was worth smuggling into
or out of, said anouvo. Certainly nothing a rich man
would be interested in. The official murmured something with a smile,
spoke a few words into his phone, and the job
was done. A small wave of custom men hung stickers
(16:14):
on my luggage, peeked into one or two for conformity's sake,
and waved me through. I shook hands all around, a
rustling hand clasp, of course. Then was on my way.
A cab was summoned, a hotel suggested. I nodded agreement,
and settled back while the robot loaded the bags. About
me end of Section one,
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