"You didn't have to say. I can see it in your face. But get this straight, Stedman. Your brother died on Ganymede three years ago--of natural causes, that is, if you can call some of the local fauna 'natural causes'. He worked for _Barling Brothers Interplanetary_, so I guess the rivalry between them and us didn't help. But no one killed him." "I didn't say--" "Is that all you can say, 'you didn't say?' Try to tell me why you came aboard the _Gordak_; go ahead, try." "I'm an expert in Extra-terrestrial zoology, and you needed one. Mr. Carmical hired me." "I know that. But I guess I also know a thing or two which Brody Carmical doesn't. All right, Stedman. You come as far as Mercury. But one slip, just one slip--" "Okay, T. J.," Steve said, almost jauntily. "I'll watch my step." "I'm the _Gordak_'s captain. You'll call me that. Captain--is it clear?" "No," said Steve, and laughed. The ten-world junket would be a hard, driving, gruelling ordeal come what might, and he wouldn't kowtow to T. J. Moore, male or female, here at the beginning. "No," he said again, forcing the laughter out. "This isn't a military ship, so you won't impose any arbitrary discipline on me." The woman laughed too, but it was more effective. "I won't, won't I? Once we leave Earth, Stedman, everything we do is dangerous. Everything. I've got to have full authority, every order obeyed at the drop of a hat. Understand?" "No." The woman removed the black cap from her head, and Steve noticed, not without surprise, that her pale blond hair wasn't close-cropped after all. It had been piled up inside the cap, and now it spilled down loosely about her shoulders. Smiling, she dropped the cap to the floor. "Pick it up," she said. "Are you kidding? I'm an expert on Extra-terrestrial zoology. That's what Mr. Carmical hired me for. If you want that hat picked up, better do it yourself." Vaguely, Steve wondered if Charlie had met the woman those final days on far Ganymede, had fought with her tooth and nail for some priceless specimen--and lost, with no witness but the bleak, desolate topography of the Jovian moon. The woman turned away from him, called: "LeClarc! LeClarc, come here." * * * * * One of the coveralled figures approached them, a thick-thewed man whose muscular strength couldn't be hidden by the baggy clothing. Not as tall as Steve or the woman, he was broad of shoulder and thick through the chest. He had a dark face and deep-set black eyes, and a thin scar ran the length of his right cheek, from eye to chin. "Yes, Captain?" "Stedman here is new. He questions my authority. I wondered if you'd like to work him over some--" "A pleasure," growled the stocky, gnarled Frenchman, and swung his right fist up in a quick, blurring motion.