I again managed to sit up and felt the strength begin returning to my limbs. If you aren't stone dead, modern medicine can heal almost anything nowadays in a matter of hours, which I find reassuring. "What do you propose, another duel?" "That doesn't make much sense," said Jeanette. "Why fight among ourselves when there are so many of those stupid boys buzzing around?" "Yes, what I was going to suggest," Naomi said eagerly, "is that we sort of share the leadership until one or the other of us gets killed in battle." I thought for a moment and then clenched my fist, and we knocked knuckles grinning at each other. I got to my feet. "What are your plans to strike back at the Io gang?" "Frankly, that was just for public consumption," Naomi admitted. "We don't have any plans as yet." "Well," I said, "let's the two of us get in a ship and just bomb hell out of their home base." Naomi showed surprise. "Right now? In our condition?" "Sure. What this gang needs is a little boost in morale." Naomi nodded, her brown eyes flashing. "Good. We'll go in my ship." Together we strode from the sickbay, through the tunnel to the airlock. Ginger intercepted us at the First Hall. Her guards held a man at pistol point. "Naomi ... Vera ... whichever of you is in charge now. We've just caught an Io spy!" He was an older man, balding, seedy-appearing in an old-style tweed suit. He stared at us in a calm, unflustered manner, plainly curious. "Oho! Now we can get even for the way they treated Phyllis." Naomi was gleefully thumbing through her mental catalog of torture techniques. "If he's a spy," I said, "let's not waste any time on him now. We can take care of him when we get back." Jeanette had followed us in the tunnel. "He doesn't look like a spy to me," she said drily. "Oh no?" said Ginger. "Then how did he find our hideout? How did he learn our landing code?" Suddenly I recalled my feeling of being followed. "I thought there was someone trailing me in space this morning. All the way from Ganymede I had the weirdest sensation." "Well, that may explain how he got here," said Jeanette, "but I still say this guy isn't a spy." "You're quite right," said the man. "I'm not a spy." "Sure," Jeanette continued in her lanky farm accents, "the first prerequisite for a spy is to look inconspicuous. This old character couldn't do much hiding in a girl's dormitory." "Old man, how did you come here?" I demanded. "I landed at the entrance of your cave, madam, and asked to be admitted. Then your colleagues," he nodded at Ginger, "seized me before I could explain my purpose in coming here." "No matter what he says, I think he's a spy," said Ginger. "This is a very subtle angle they're playing. I'm security officer; it's my job to outguess them." Naomi was impatient. "Well, if you think he's a spy, then shoot him." "Yes," said Ginger, "why should we take chances?"