“_Ferkab_ the E.I.A.,” said Rolf rudely. His dark eyes blazed as they glared at her. “We’re going out there. At any rate, _I_ am. If you think I’m going to sit around and wait while a lot of red tape is unwound and maybe some more of us get killed, you’re full of _purt_.” Lynne’s own reaction told the story. Even by coming in second-hand contact with the alien mind, they were reverting to their inner natures. She had turned into the convention-bound Earthwoman while Rolf, more than ever, was the determinedly reckless authority-hating man of Mars. But even awareness of the cause of their behavior was of little help. She forced herself to say, “Very well, Rolf, I’ll go to Callisto with you, but not until we’re provisionally married.” Rolf said, “_Crehut, vinral_, how simple can you get? I’ve got news for you. We were married this afternoon at the weddings, when I had you sign the second book. Remember?” And, when she stared at him, stunned, “What did you think we were doing--playing moon-snaffle?” Lynne felt as if she had been turned into some gelatinous substance, and dipped in a quickfreeze. She could barely manage to telepathize, much less speak. She thought, _And I suppose you think that makes everything intimately uninhibited between us?_ He was still playing the insensitive goon as he flashed back, _Well, it certainly makes everything legal_. Lynne’s chill melted in the sudden heat of her anger. She sent a bludgeoning stream of fierce thoughts at him, attacking his crude concept of marriage, the travesty of the entire Martian mating system, the antique crudity of the accompanying drunken parties, overwhelming his desperate efforts to temper her wrath. It was a great fight while it lasted--but it didn’t last long. Rolf simply lifted Lynne off her feet with one arm, pinioning her while he sealed her mouth with the other. “Okay--but shut up, little wife,” he said, “or I’ll take off on my own. And you wouldn’t want that--remember, I can read your mind as easily as you can read mine.” He deliberately broadcast a detailed vision of what he intended to do to her once they were alone in the privacy of the spaceship. Lynne flashed back a vision of what she intended to do to him if he tried anything of the sort and, moments later, they were glaring at each other in a sort of uneasy armed truce. Lynne found herself seething with a hatred she had never believed herself capable of feeling toward any living creature. Then, silently, she prepared herself for the journey ahead. Mostly, it was a matter of arranging for records to be kept properly during her absence. There was nothing to pack--not for an interplanetary journey in a two-man triple-drive.