He didn't answer him. Memories of the blond woman with the trim ankles, the slim waist and the large breasts floated back to him; memories of the many evenings they'd shared walking along the sand under the stars. He sat there fingering the thoughts as they rolled past, without feeling anything. He was aware, finally, that Narvi was speaking to him. "... know how you feel, Lors, but forget it. You could never work anything out. Go on back to Jela and forget about this alien. It doesn't matter how wonderful she is; probably nothing short of killing her husband would gain her for you." Lors smiled thinly. "We can do that, too." He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment "What did Imry do with Danson?" "Nothing. He lives better than most spacers. Since we are minus prisons on starships, Imry installed him in your quarters, under guard, of course. Commander Zark hasn't been able to figure out what to do with him, yet. That's what he wants to talk to you about." "Have you a scout ship here?" Lors asked. "Certainly. We use them to make reports. The Terrans would pick up the radio waves otherwise." "How about a uniform?" "You can borrow one of Thesa's. You'd never get into one of mine." "Fine. As soon as I'm properly attired, we'll go see Zark." Grinning at Narvi, Lors followed Thesa into the bedroom for the uniform. * * * * * Later, dressed in the uniform of a Firstspacer, Lors checked himself in the mirror of the bedroom making certain that he was properly dressed. Trousers bloused neatly into the black, half boots, the yellow stripes perfectly aligned, the cuffs of the tunic fastened at his wrists and throat, the emblems of the 8th. Terran Command on the collar, the patch of rank on his left shoulder sleeve. Yes, he was all set. Precise. He grinned at Thesa. "Feels good," he said. The sandy haired spacer handed him the black leather belt containing the auto-pistol and the cartridge belt. He buckled it on, feeling the familiar weight drag at his right hip. "Okay?" Thesa asked. Lors nodded. "Thanks for the loan," he said and went out to where Narvi, already dressed, awaited him. "How's your head?" Narvi asked. "Fine." "Let's go, then." They walked, wordlessly, out to the barn. The blond snapped on a small light near the scout ship and Lors went up close to examine it. "Climb in," Narvi invited. "I have to scan the area and make sure no one will see the take-off."