She sat down again. "Do you realize, Bill Drake, that there are no laws here in space excepting those laid down by Spartan?" "I can think of a few of Newton's laws that he has no control over." "I'm not talking about physical laws. Spartan is more powerful than any nabob who ever lived on earth--he is a greater despot than Caesar, than the Pharaohs. That's why he's stand-offish with everyone. He has the power of life and death over us all." I closed the dryer and set the timer. "Forget it, Gail," I told her, dropping down beside her. "Spartan's like a military commander. Not only our lives, but the success of this mission are his responsibility. He can't very well get chummy with buck privates." I didn't particularly love the guy, but I thought--then--that I understood him. "We're not buck privates," she said, with a woman's logic and hatred of metaphor. "Okay. We're second looeys. Now, what shall I do? Go to Spartan and say, 'Listen, you old goat, stop looking lecherously at my wife-in-name-only'?" "This is no joking matter, Bill Drake. I may be your wife-in-name-only but there was a good sound reason for our marriage. You have to keep me from--uh--well, getting involved. You're a sort of chaperon." I groaned. "Let me tell you something," she went on. "During my first trick in the control room--not long after we started our routine on this ship--Spartan came in and spent almost the five hours with me. He talked to me as I'd never been talked to before, Bill Drake. He told me to move my sleeping bag into his compartment and live there. He made it sound as if it were my duty and that I'd be shirking if I didn't." I gaped at her. "The hell he did!" I just couldn't believe it. "You must have misunderstood him--" "I most certainly did not!" she said. "Don't you believe me?" "Well, the guy isn't any tin god," I said. "But he didn't force you to do what he'd suggested." "Do you know why?" she asked. When I didn't answer she went on. "Because I told him that if he did, he'd have to explain to the whole crew. He'd wind up with a red-hot mutiny on his hands. And when we returned from Mars, I'd nail his hide to the Pentagon, or some other conspicuous place." I whistled. "And he took it?" "Not meekly. He said that if he wished, he could "take care" of the whole crew. And if I repeated what he said to me, to anyone, he'd brand it as a pack of lies. He particularly cautioned me against telling you. He said he didn't want to be forced into "taking care" of you." "But you told me," I said. "I'm warning you, Bill Drake. Watch out for Spartan. He doesn't intend for you to return alive--or anyone else who opposes him." I no longer understood Spartan. Would he kill to have his way? I had suspected his hatred since the day the wedding was agreed upon. "He wanted to marry you," I said, "but you changed the plan. Why didn't he object then?"