McVane was sitting at his little desk, drowsing in the warm, oily air. He roused at Ray's tread and absently closed a lower drawer before he turned. Hiding his bottle! The man would drink himself to death! "The girl is in your cabin," Ray said shortly. "Good." McVane's eyes were bleary and, for a moment, pity closed in on Ray. After all, he had no right to condemn the little engineer for his weakness--his whole family wiped out. "What do you know about these Mutes?" he asked more gently. "They can't talk." McVane drew into himself. "Go ask the girl if you want to know!" His hand trembled toward the lower drawer. Disgusted, Ray turned away. The whole crew wore an armor plate of callous indifference! It was like no ship Ray had ever flown. Muttering, he climbed back to the main deck, to McVane's cabin. The girl was sitting on a bunk, combing her hair with angry sweeps. She gave him one hot glance, then ignored him completely. "Look," he began, "I'm as anxious to get you out of here as you are. I don't want to see you--hurt--" "The Great Zipher will guard me," she snapped. "He gives peace and security in our times." "Sure, sure." Ray frowned impatiently. "But the rest of us want peace and security, too. If you make trouble--" "Why is a young man like you consorting with these sinners?" She looked at him with sudden curiosity. "You don't belong here!" Ray stared at her. What was her name? Oh, yes, Ellenor. "If you repent in time--" He laughed harshly. "Nothing doing. This may be no healthy job, maybe I'll quit after this, but don't get ideas. What I came to--" "I know what you came to beg," she said scornfully. "I will make no deal with evil. You can't harm me. You will all slay yourselves. The ship is doomed!" She spoke with such certainty that for a moment Ray wondered if she might know something. Perhaps she was aware of coming rescue. Still, that was ridiculous. She had been caged with the rest. She was bluffing, perhaps to allay her own fears. He tried another tack. Sympathy. He asked her about herself. She was a missionary's daughter, born on Venus, and had grown up among the words of the Great Zipher. "And who is the Great Zipher?" Ray demanded, amused. There were countless little religions flourishing under free thought. "No one knows. We know he saved the world from the last great plague of Depression. People were affected by a great Gloom and saw no purpose in life. They shrunk inside and suffered mental disease. The Great Zipher said--only believe that ye have plenty, and spend your substance in good things, and these shall come to pass." "And did they?" he prodded. "Are there any more plagues of Depression?" she asked tartly. It sounded like a cheerful religion, but Ray declined to argue. He reverted back to his main purpose. "Being religious, you shouldn't demand vengeance on us," he pointed out. "Suppose we turn you loose if you promise to keep that little mouth shut?" "Your own sins will betray you anyway."