"I won't talk about it, sir, if that's what you mean," said the tech. "It's not such a hard secret to keep. All the crewmen on the ship know there's _something_ pretty awful about your job. I just happen to know _what_. All I'd get for spilling the inside dope would be, 'Oh, is _that_ what it is!' Hardly worth it." "That's hardly a noble reason to keep a secret," Jerry murmured, looking narrow-eyed at the tech. The man grinned, then shrugged. "Makes my life easy, too. Now when you flare up at me, I'll know why, and skip it." "Thanks a hell of a lot," Jerry muttered. The tech laughed aloud. "But," the zoologist added soberly, "we did learn one surprising lesson today. The forty-minute Contact period can be broken, under certain stresses." The smile left the tech's face, and he looked earnestly puzzled. "I don't follow you, sir. There was nothing on the tape about--" "Tape?" said Jerry. "You _saw_ how quickly I came out, didn't you? What's that got to do with the tape?" "Sir," the tech said hesitantly, "you were under the helmet for the full forty." Jerry flopped back upon the pillows, staring at the other man as if he'd suddenly gone berserk. "That can't _be_," he said slowly. "I was in a long-life host. The clouds weren't even moving. That baby was living many subjective days in the forty-minute period." "Begging your pardon, sir," said the tech, "but you must be mistaken. You were gone the full forty." "That's impossible," said Jerry. Jana, who'd been standing back from the two men, stepped forward cautiously, apprehensive at butting into something that was not really her affair. "Excuse me, Lieutenant Norcriss," she said softly, "but Bob's right. You were gone as long as he says." "You don't understand, either of you!" Jerry snapped. "My time-awareness in a host is subject to the host's time-awareness. So far as this host was concerned, a day was a confoundedly long period. But I could tell the elapsed time by watching the clouds, the height of the sun. They didn't move, either of them, visibly...." "How's that again, sir?" asked the tech. "How long did you _seem_ to spend?" "Possibly an hour." "Well, then." The tech shrugged. "But this had nothing to do with the host's subjective sense of _time_, Ensign. It was my own knowledge of _objective_ time through watching the sun, the trees, the clouds. None of them moved during my subjective hour in the host-alien. So no time--or very little time; barely a few minutes--could have passed while I was enhosted, do you see?" "Lieutenant Norcriss," said Jana, abruptly. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but did you say clouds?" "Yes," said Jerry, puzzled by her intensity. "Why?" "There hasn't been a cloud in the sky today," she said awkwardly. "I mean--Well, look for yourself!"