"Talk to these two. We've got some firm precognitions that make things look bad for Mekin." He left the room. Gwenlyn remained, listening with interest when the conversation began, and now and then saying something of no great importance. But her presence kept Bors from feeling altogether like a fool. Madame Porvis looked at him with languishing, sentimental eyes. Harms watched him accusingly. Their questions were trivial. Bors told about the landings on Tralee and on Garen. The woman asked for details that would help her picture feats of derring-do. Bors hesitated, and did not quite tell her about the truck drivers on Tralee who volunteered the information that their loads were booby-trapped. But he did stress the fact that the populations of dominated planets were on the thin edge of revolt. The suspicious Talent asked very little. He listened, frowning. When it was over and they'd gone--the fat woman again somehow managing a gait which could only be called sinuous--Bors said abruptly, "What's this event you know of, a year ahead?" "King Humphrey opening parliament on Kandar," said Gwenlyn pleasantly. "There's another," said Bors, "which implies specifically that I'll still be alive." "That?" said Gwenlyn. "That's another one. I won't talk about it. It implies that my father's going to retire from Talents, Incorporated." Bors fumed. "I don't like this prediction business," he said. "It still seems to hint that we're not free agents. Tell me," he said apprehensively. "That precognition about me, it doesn't include Madame Porvis?" Gwenlyn laughed. "No. Definitely no!" Bors grunted. Then he managed to grin. "In that case I'll go pilfer some provisions so the fleet will be prepared to do what you tell me it won't, but which it has to be prepared to do. I suppose I'll be back?" "I hope so," said Gwenlyn, smiling. She gave him her hand. He left. He shook his head as he made his way to the _Sylva's_ space-boat blister. He had it immediately taken to his new ship. It was a light cruiser of the same class as the _Isis_. It would, of course, seem to be the same ship, and it had nearly the same crew aboard. No one of Morgan's freakish Talents was included this time, and Bors felt more than a little relieved. He inspected everything and made sure his drive-engineers were more tractable than they'd been on the _Isis_. He meant to build another low-power overdrive at once. He cleared for departure with the flagship. He was swinging the ship toward his first destination when a call came from the _Sylva_. He was asked for. He went to a screen. He preferred to see Gwenlyn when he talked to her. She was there. "_I've a memo for you_," she said briskly. "_There are cargo-ships aground on Cassis and Dover. There is a sort of patrol-squadron of warships aground on Meriden. Nothing on Avino. Are you recording this?_" "I won't forget it," he said.