Danson snorted again. "You guys aren't the sharpest people in the world. I will give you a bit of advice, for free. You better either return me to earth, or kill me. In another thirteen months, I'll figure out a way to blow this hulk into a million pieces." "I doubt that," Lors mused. "Go ahead and doubt it, but you'd better keep the powder magazine under double guard. And while you're at it, you better have the boys be careful of what they say around me, since I know the lingo." "How many Spacers have you talked to?" Lors asked. "How many of them know how intelligent you are?" Danson shrugged. "Why?" "Just wondered." Nick Danson looked at him narrowly. "You have something on your mind, Lors?" "Maybe. Right now, I'll keep it to myself. Until then, keep your mouth shut about how smart you are. A weapon, Nick, is only useful when the enemy doesn't know how well it will work. When they know, a counter-weapon can be made." Lors moved to the door. "I'll be back, probably," he said and went out into the corridor, leaving the Terran to ponder on what he had said. The guard snapped to attention, then handed Lors his auto-pistol. The Firstspacer slipped it into the holster and snapped the flap. Then he walked rapidly toward Firstspacer Thesa's quarters with the germ of an idea filtering and dancing through his mind. It wasn't a complete idea, but it certainly was a wild one. The chances of its working were about a thousand to one, but if it did things might work out. He hoped so. He reached the door of Thesa's quarters and jerked it open. His fingers fumbled for the button, inside the door, that would switch on the lighted walls. When he found it, he closed the door and flicked on the lights. He stared at the inside of the room in amazement. She was lying on the bed, with her golden hair falling about her shoulders like a waterfall of sunlight, and her lips pulled back over white teeth to smile at him. But he was stunned, frozen to the spot. "Jela," he whispered, in shock. CHAPTER FOURTEEN For a moment, she didn't move and, in the silence, he allowed his eyes to finger her. Beneath the blond tumble of hair, her blue eyes watched him, her lips toying with a bemused smile. She wore the odd toga-like dress that had recently become popular among the women on the home planet; it was a white color, trimmed in a pale blue that went well with her hair, but Lors hardly noticed it. His eyes were fixed upon the twin lift of her breasts as they fought against the material. She swung her long, curved legs to the floor, a momentary flash of creamy flesh showing at her thighs, and stood up. She came to him on slippered feet, whispering against the floor and stopped before him, her breasts faintly brushing the material of his tunic.