He went to the control room and got out the forms that would need to be filled out before the ship could leave port. Suddenly he remembered his puzzlement about the young spaceman--what was his name?--Raines? He pressed a button on the file, and the boy's records flashed up at him. At first they seemed to be in order: _Alard Raines, aged twenty-five, educated on Earth_, well and good. But _born on Earth_ ... Mattern was almost positive that could never have been, not from the way the young man spoke. And one false statement meant that the whole record was false. However, he could not challenge the discrepancy before they left for Capella. If he spoke to Raines, he'd probably have to dismiss him then and there. It would be difficult to find a suitable replacement in Erytheia City. He might have to send for someone from Earth, which would take months, perhaps a year. First he'd take the _Queen_ to Burdon, he decided, and then he would fire Raines. * * * * * Nearly three weeks went by before they could leave. Mattern found himself looking forward with some impatience to Burdon. When Lyddy had a house of her own that she could take an interest in, he told himself, things would be different; she would be different. This way she was bored much of the time, and boredom is contagious. "I've 'vised ahead to Capella, dear," he told her as they boarded ship, "and rented a furnished multiplex, so we'll have some place to stay." "Yes, honey," she said, with a strange lack of interest. She didn't even seem surprised at the size of the ship. Underneath her elaborate makeup, she was pale; her body was trembling. She saw that an explanation was necessary. "It's been so long since I made the Jump. Silly of me to be so nervous, but you do hear things about hyperspace...." "You're safer in my ship than anywhere else." "Yes, I know." Was she merely expressing trust in him, or was there more to her words than that? At first he was just vaguely suspicious. Then, the second day out, he noticed that Lyddy and Raines seemed to be together a good deal more of the time than chance would account for, and his suspicions secured a focus. The two had some kind of unspoken understanding, he thought, watching them as much out of curiosity as anger. _I have become chilled with the years of alien company_, he thought. _I am incapable of true passion; perhaps that is what she seeks in another._ But, though he might find excuses for her, he would not condone her. A bargain was a bargain. At the end of the first week, he said to her one evening, as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her brush her long, thick gilded hair, "Darling, I'm a little worried about one of my crewmen." Lyddy didn't turn from the jeweled dressing table he'd had especially installed for her. "Which one?" she asked. "Young Raines. Do you know which he is?"