"Why I did it?" He chuckled, and she didn't like the sound of it. "I'm only too glad to have you in my custody, young woman! And, you know, you're not supposed to be out of my sight any--that is, _any_ of the time!" She felt her face redden, and spun about to face him. There was sudden anger at her lips and her coolness had evaporated. "You contempti--" "Easy there, sergeant! Always knew there was a little more to you than that ice cube exterior of yours! But tell me--d'you want to sit back there in that dump, or shall we stick our noses into the lovely mixup your precious Lieutenant Mason has set off?" She stared up at him wordlessly, the blood hot in her cheeks. And she tried to think. This was Cain as she knew he was. This was Roger Cain, angling for a deal. "I'm in your custody," she bit out. "I must stay within your sight. That is your responsibility." He laughed at her, then gripped her elbow. "Come on," he said. "I've got a R-IX waiting at the field. I think we should go on a little trip, sergeant. There are people I want to see!" They were streaming for open Space within less than thirty minutes from the time Cain had freed her. She didn't ask him how he'd gotten permission for the fleet R-IX's use, or how he'd obtained her voucher, nor did she ask him how he had learned of what had happened to Lance and Kriijorl, yet she knew that somehow he was aware of the Thrayxites and their plot. Cain had ways of learning the things he wanted to learn, getting the things he wanted to get. "Keep an eye on the scanner for me, will you, beautiful?" "Yes sir." "And forget that sir stuff! Look, Judy--" "For what do you want me to watch, sir?" Cain grunted, gave a shrug of his powerful shoulders and turned his attention back to the pursuit's compact control console. "Two blips, honey. Tearing hell-for-leather out of old Sol's little family. One'll be chasing the other, if my guess is any good. We want the front one." "But--but that would be the--" "The Thrayxite crowd. Right?" For a moment she was silent. She knew he could not mean to attack; not with a tiny pursuit, swift as it was. "Mister Cain, I can only guess at what you intend doing. But it will be my privilege in court to testify concerning your conduct of custodianship--" "You must be working on the assumption that we're going back there, sweetheart!" "You--" "A deal is where you find it! Watch for that front blip, sergeant. With what we know of Kriijorl and his crowd, this oughta be a natural!" * * * * * The cubicle in which he awoke was softly lit, and the painful throb Mason knew should be splitting his head apart was strangely absent. Kriijorl was bending over him, loosening the tightness of the military collar at his throat. "They certainly were taking no chances with you," he said. His long Viking's hair was matted with blood just above the temple, yet he seemed to be suffering little pain, himself. "How do you feel?"