Why in the name of Earth's sun had she picked him out--of every other human? There must have been hundreds of red-heads in the human procession. He looked up at Shel Lur's pink face and said very heatedly: "Oh, hell...." Shel Lur looked at him impassively. He had plenty of time to think now and to watch. The picture of the giant Klash ever was with him, that look of pain pricking and tickling at his mind. Once he asked Shel Lur: "Can't you be killed?" In her atrociously accented English she said: "No, I cannot be killed. No Krak ever killed." "Don't you ever die?" "Oh, yess. We die." "How?" Shel Lur merely shrugged and repeated: "We die." And looked at him impassively. He liked those rare occasions when she sent him out with the laundry to the section laundry where the humans toiled day and night with the heavy garments. It was good to see your own kind, he thought, even if they are slaves. Once he tried to lose himself in the city, but an unerring Krak came straight to his hiding spot behind an eating place, lifted him out of his lair, and returned him to Shel Lur. Shel Lur had not even chided him on his long absence, but had merely looked at him impassively. This day began differently. Shel Lur woke him by prodding him with her big foot and when he sat up on the cold floor, she pointed, her face a blank: "See?" she said. He twisted his aching neck sharply, and almost gasped: "Marcia! What--how did you get here?" "Woman," Shel Lur said tonelessly. "Your woman." Tiny Marcia, her blonde hair awry, her blue eyes frightened, her tiny hands twisting. Her words stumbled out: "A Krak came; took me from beside Mike in the laundry." Sean looked from Marcia to Shel Lur. Shel Lur nodded: "Your woman," she said again. "No," Sean said, "my friend's woman." "Yess?" said Shel Lur. "Your woman, I say it." She took Marcia by the arm, pushed her against Sean. Then she walked out and shut the door. Sean stood in the center of the room, running his hands through his flame hair. "I'm damned if I know what she's driving at. Oh, well," he said and shrugged. He looked at Marcia, commented: "You look better than you did on the ship." Marcia looked at him, her lips quivering, her eyes brimming with tears: "Oh, Sean," she said. "What kind of hellish world is this?" Then she threw herself into Sean's arms, her breasts heaving, sobs like tiny pin cushions tearing at her throat. Awkwardly, Sean patted her shoulder. "Easy, Marcia, easy." Shel Lur came back in again. Without emotion, she looked at Marcia clasped in Sean's arms, said tonelessly: "Good. You will not run away again." Marcia turned her head to stare at the Krak woman. Sean's eyes were thoughtful. * * * * * Sean McKenna awoke suddenly, jarred from sleep by an almost tangible thought. Half-awake, the fingers of his mind reached into his dream and tried to form it into wakeful reality.