"I am--sure of both. But I need you more as an ally. Shall we go in?" The needle-like hull housed a long, spiral catway that led to the cabins and control room. Halfway to the nose Firebird showed Nathan a tiny cabin which he could use. "You'll find a supply of clothing," she said. "I find it necessary to prepare for occasional guests who forget to bring luggage." Guests taken from space liners in the midst of interplanetary space, Nathan thought. He wondered what had become of the many that the Firebird had kidnapped that way. "And now the control room," she said. "I want you to become familiar with the operation of the ship." All the ships that Nathan had ever known seemed like clumsy scows beside this splendid vessel. Every device known to space navigation and combat was in the equipment. And many instruments he failed to recognize. "Who designed this ship?" "My father." "Father--" Somehow Nathan found himself unable to associate the Firebird with any of the normalcies of life. "Who was your father?" Her smile was wry. "A man who was little known during his lifetime." He didn't pursue the subject; they could go into that later. He said, "What I'm interested in is what do we do now?" "We are going to find the other three Jewels. One of them is in the hands of your father's murderer. We do not need to worry about losing track of that because he will follow us." "You know who it is?" "Yes--but you would not believe me." "Tell me!" He stepped forward, his big hands closing as if upon a throat. "Our bargain," the girl reminded him. "The Jewels first--I swear we'll not lose him." "The other Jewels--where are they, then?" "One of them is buried inaccessibly in a mountain on Mars. The other is in the possession of one of three outlaws, all of whom are on Mars. I have traced it to one of them. So that is where we are going." "How do you know who has them?" "That's a long story," said Firebird, "and one that has cost many years of my life. And would have cost more without Thymar's help." "I'd like to know more of your story about him. He never told me until he died that he had known you." "It can wait." Satisfied that the controls were in order, the girl turned her attention to the engines. "There's trouble in the port motor," she said. "It can't be repaired with the facilities available to us here. We'll have to take a chance using it." Nathan was about to protest, then changed his mind. He and his father had gone into space so often with decrepit and half worn equipment that it should have made no difference, but this vessel was so sleek and perfect that danger seemed to lurk in any minor imperfection. Nathan strapped himself into the inertia-controlling chair next to Firebird. He studied the duplicate controls in front of him but kept his hands off. Firebird started the warming coils to preheat the tubes. After a moment she adjusted the ignition controls and twisted the fuel valve.