She nodded. "I'd conjectured as much. If you don't accept theories involving the supernatural, and I don't, it follows almost necessarily. If a few of them projected themselves aboard and hid somewhere, they could manipulate air molecules from a distance so as to produce the whisperings--" She smiled afresh, but the hollowness was still in her. "When you call it a new sort of ventriloquism, it doesn't sound nearly so bad, does it?" Fiercely, the woman turned on him. "And what have you had to do with them? How are you so sure?" "I--talked with one of them," he replied slowly. "You might say we struck up a friendship of sorts. But I learned nothing, and the only benefit I got was escaping. I've no useful information." His voice sharpened. "And that's all I have to say." "Well, we're going on!" Her head lifted pridefully. Donovan's smile was a crooked grimace. He took her hand, and it lay unresisting between his fingers. "Helena," he said, "you've been trying to psychoanalyze me this whole trip. Maybe it's my turn now. You're not so hard as you tell yourself." "I am an officer of the Imperial Navy." Her haughtiness didn't quite come off. "Sure, sure. A hard-shelled career girl. Only you're also a healthy human being. Down underneath, you want a home and kids and quiet green hills. Don't lie to yourself, that wouldn't be fitting to the Lady Jansky of Torgandale, would it? You went into service because it was the thing to do. And you're just a scared kid, my dear." Donovan shook his head. "But a very nice-looking kid." Tears glimmered on her lashes. "Stop it," she whispered desperately. "Don't say it." He kissed her, a long slow kiss with her mouth trembling under his and her body shivering ever so faintly. The second time she responded, shy as a child, hardly aware of the sudden hunger. * * * * * She pulled free then, sat with eyes wide and wild, one hand lifted to her mouth. "No," she said, so quietly he could scarce hear. "No, not now--" Suddenly she got up and almost fled. Donovan sighed. _Why did I do that? To stop her inquiring too closely? Or just because she's honest and human, and Valduma isn't? Or_-- Darkness swirled before his eyes. Wocha came awake and shrank against the farther wall, terror rattling in his throat. "Boss--boss, she's here again--" Donovan sat unstirring, elbows on knees, hands hanging empty, and looked at the two who had come. "Hello, Valduma," he said. "Basil--" Her voice sang against him, rippling, lilting, the unending sharp laughter beneath its surprise. "Basil, you have come back." "Uh-huh." He nodded at the other. "You're Morzach, aren't you? Sit down. Have a drink. Old home week."