She had been preparing for a sun-bath under a lamp built into the wall over the bed. The hand clutching her garments across her breast sank for a moment, evoking a mirthless grin from the giant that froze her already icy blood. "You needn't trouble," he said, his voice so low she barely heard him. "It won't work." She drew herself up, dark head high, and tried to still the tremor of her knees. There was good blood in Irene Francinet, and long years of iron discipline. "You are intruding," she said, and her voice was steadier than she hoped. "Who are you? Where is your ship?" His courtesy was insulting as he bowed, his eyes never leaving hers. "Your pardon. I am Eldon Kurland, late of North Jupiter. _You_ need no name." "I am Irene Francinet, Recorder, of Earth." Her voice was angry, uneven. "I do not understand you." "Let it suffice that I understand you," he replied, his tone acid with ruthless disdain. He moved slowly forward, his eyes chill diamonds under the softly glowing atomics, and slowly she retreated, no longer able to conceal her fear. His hands never left the black handles of his guns. "I knew the Marward's arm is long," he went on, grimly. "None better than I. I had not thought it long enough to drag the proud name of Recorder in this bloody mud." She halted, stamping her foot on the rug. "What is this talk? Marward of where? Why do you fling him in my face like ... like refuse?" Bright color stained her pale cheeks, and he eyed her curiously. "You do that well enough, Francinet." He surveyed her from head to toe, savoring the midnight hair, the eyes flaming bluely into his, the straight nose and the strong red mouth. "Disclaim Gion of Jupiter if you will. He's no friend of mine. But save your anger for better men. I've seen your work." Her face was blank, and he answered her brutally. "I stand within it. It stinks in the sun. I walked in blood to fling it in your face, you treacherous snake! I'll see the color of Gion's, yes, and yours, before either of you hears the last of this!" he blazed in a sudden whirl of recurring anger. "You'll play at words with me! You know this ship's cargo! You sent Gion her position even as you blew her tubes and sent her crashing here with all her helpless people." He flung a hand back at the door by which he had entered. "Walk out there, Recorder, and feel their blood roll beneath your feet! You who are so free with other's lives to win the treacherous praise Gion lulls you fools asleep with while he robs and slays!" "What are you saying?" she whispered, lips stiff in her blanched face. "You think _I_ wrecked the _Plutonian_? You think I killed those people?" "You live," was his brutal rejoinder. "But why? _Why?_" she wailed, abandoning her firm dignity as he loomed over her, black with anger. "Why should I do so horrible a thing? What reason could I have?"