Later, the puzzled steward departed for the dining salon to return the steak knife which Snow had "accidentally" picked up. We sipped our drinks in mutual silence for a minute or two, regarding one another over the rims of our tumblers. To me, Snow was looking better by the minute. I even had a momentary thought of flashing the Amnesty at her to see if those red velvet lips could fulfill in a tactile way the promise they made visually. But instead, I said, "Tell me, do you always attack Amnesty-bearers with the nearest weapon you can lay hold of?" Snow laughed musically, shaking her head. "I didn't mean to come in at full threat, Jery," she said softly. "I just wanted some sort of defense in case--Well, Amnesty-bearers think they can ask _anything_ of a person, and--" She left the explanation unfinished, but I found myself glad I hadn't tried pulling rank for a fast romance. "I'm very curious to know just what you did come in here for, Snow. Or did you just want a peep at the Amnesty? I saw you react when Baxter let it slip back at the spaceport." "Is that who that was? Chief Baxter, of International Security?" she exclaimed. I realized I was blurting things, and sighed, "Damn, I'm talking too much." Snow's eyes gave me the once-over, and she tilted her head to one side, curiously. "You know, Jery, you don't look like a government official. You seem to be just an average man." I thought of my dossier and frowned. "Not quite average, I'm afraid. I can be hopelessly confused by women." Snow digested this, then shrugged. "Like I said, you seem to be just an average man." I laughed. "I guess I'd better explain." I told her all about my erstwhile job at Solar Sales, and my mental bloc regarding females. When I finished, she was fighting a grin. It was a losing fight. The grin won. "If I'd known that, I'd have skipped that steak knife and just entered in a bikini," she said. "You wouldn't have to go even that far," I told her. "One friendly wink of your big blue eyes and I'd be putty." Snow raised her eyebrows appraisingly. "Hmmm. I'll have to remember that in the future." It was in fun, but I caught a tinge of serious consideration in it. It gave me an uneasy feeling, a feeling that brought me sharply back to my main query, from which I'd been sidetracked a few moments before. "But you still haven't told me why you came in here." "To find you. I figured that if an Amnesty-bearer was on his way to Mars, there was big trouble. And I think I know what the trouble is, but I need some of the answers you can give me." "What do you want with government information?" I said, trying to be stiffly formal. "And what makes you think I'd give it to you?" "Two reasons," she said, answering my last question first. "I can simply wink a big blue eye--unless you've been pulling my leg--and get all the information I desire." "That's only one reason," I said carefully. "What else makes you think I'd tell you the information?"