I found Venza seated alone in a secluded corner of the starlit deck. A porthole, with the black heavens and the blazing stars, was before her. There was an empty seat nearby. "Hola-lo,[6] Gregg! Sit here with me. I have been wondering when you would come after me." I sat down beside her. "What are you doing--going to Mars, Venza? I'm glad to see you." "Many thanks. But I am glad to see you, Gregg. So handsome a man.... Do you know, from Venus to the earth and I have no doubt on all of Mars, no man will please me more." "Glib tongue," I laughed. "Born to flatter the male--every girl of your world." And I added seriously, "You don't answer my question? What takes you to Mars?" "Contract. By the stars, what else? Of course, a chance to make a voyage with you--" "Don't be silly, Venza." * * * * * I enjoyed her. I gazed at her small, slim figure gracefully reclining in the deck chair. Her long, gray robe parted--by design, I have no doubt--to display her shapely, satin-sheathed legs. Her black hair was coiled in a heavy knot at the back of her neck; her carmined lips were parted with a mocking, alluring smile. The exotic perfume of her enveloped me. She glanced at me sidewise from beneath her sweeping black lashes. "Be serious," I added. "I am serious. Sober. Intoxicated by you, but sober." I said, "What sort of a contract?" "A theater in Ferrok-Shahn. Good money, Gregg. I'm to be there a year." She sat up to face me. "There's a fellow here on the Planetara, Rance Rankin, he calls himself. At our table--a big, good-looking blond American. He says he is a magician. Ever hear of him?" "That's what he told me. No, I never heard of him." "Nor did I. And I thought I had heard of everyone of any importance. He is listed for the same theater where I'm going. Nice sort of fellow." She paused, and added suddenly, "If he's a professional entertainer, I'm a motor-oiler." * * * * * It startled me. "Why do you say that?" Instinctively my gaze swept the deck. An Earth woman and child and a small Venus man were in sight, but not within earshot. "Why do you look so furtive?" she retorted. "Gregg, there's something strange about this voyage. I'm no fool, nor you, and you know it as well as I do." "Rance Rankin--" I prompted. She leaned closer toward me. "He could fool you. But not me--I've known too many real magicians." She grinned. "I challenged him to trick me. You should have seen him trying to evade!" "Do you know Ob Hahn?" I interrupted. She shook her head. "Never heard of him. But he told me plenty at breakfast. By Satan, what a flow of words that devil-driver can muster! He and the Englishman don't mesh very well, do they?"