"To the contrary," said Calhoun, "there'll undoubtedly be a fleet heading for Orede as soon as it can be assembled and armed. But I'm afraid that's not a very good story. Try another." She shivered a little. "I'm--running away ..." "Ah!" said Calhoun. "In that case I'll take you back." "No!" she said fiercely. "I'll--I'll die first! I'll wreck this ship first!" Her hand came from behind her. There was a tiny blaster in it. But it shook visibly as she tried to aim it. "I'll--shoot out the controls!" Calhoun blinked. He'd had to make a drastic change in his estimate of the situation the instant he saw that the stowaway was a girl. Now he had to make another when her threat was not to kill him but to disable the ship. Women are rarely assassins, and when they are they don't use energy weapons. Daggers and poisons are more typical. "I'd rather you didn't do that," said Calhoun drily. "Besides, you'd get deadly bored if we were stuck in a derelict waiting for our air and food to give out." Murgatroyd, for no reason whatever, felt it necessary to enter the conversation. He said; "_Chee-chee-chee!_" "A very sensible suggestion," observed Calhoun. "We'll sit down and have a cup of coffee." To the girl he said, "I'll take you to Orede, since that's where you say you want to go." "I--there's a boy there--" Calhoun shook his head. "No," he said reprovingly. "Nearly all the mining colony had packed itself into the ship that came into Weald with everybody dead. But not all. And there's been no check of what men were in the ship and what men weren't. You wouldn't go to Orede if it were likely your fellow had died on the way to you. Here's your coffee. Sugar or saccho, and do you take cream?" She trembled a little, but she took the cup. "I--don't understand--." "Murgatroyd and I," explained Calhoun--and he did not know whether he spoke out of anger or something else--"we are do-gooders. We go around trying to keep people from getting killed. It's our profession. We practise it even on our own behalf. We want to stay alive. So since you make such drastic threats, we will take you where you want to go. Especially since we're going there anyhow." "You--don't believe anything I've said!" It was a statement. "Not a word," admitted Calhoun. "But you'll probably tell us something more believable presently. When did you eat last?" "Yesterday--." "Better have something now. We'll talk more later." Calhoun showed her how to punch the readier for such-and-such dishes, to be extracted from storage and warmed or chilled, as the case might be, and served at dialed-for intervals. * * * * * Calhoun deliberately immersed himself in the Galactic Directory, looking up the planet Orede. He was headed there, but he'd had no reason to inform himself about it before. Now he read with every appearance of absorption. The girl ate daintily. Murgatroyd watched with highly amiable interest. But she looked acutely uncomfortable.