lipped the three fish into a platter and set it
aside before he turned back to the visiplate.

"They'll go good fried," he remarked to Bradley, signaling vigorously to
Nerado that the meal was not acceptable and that he wanted to talk to
him, _in person_. Finally he made himself clear, the table sank down out
of sight, and the Nevian commander cautiously entered the room.

At Costigan's insistence, he came up to the plate, leaving near the door
three guards armed with projectors in instant readiness. The operative
then shot the beam into the galley of the pirate's lifeboat, suggesting
that they should be allowed to live there. For some time the argument of
arms and fingers raged--though not exactly a fluent conversation, both
sides managed to convey their meanings quite clearly. Nerado would not
allow the Terrestrials to visit their own ship--he was taking no
chances--but after a thorough ultra-ray inspection he did finally order
some of his men to bring into the middle room the electric range and a
supply of Terrestrial food. Soon the Nevian fish were sizzling in a pan
and the appetizing odors of coffee and of browning biscuit permeated the
room. But at the first appearance of those odors the Nevians departed
hastily, content to watch the remainder of the curious and repulsive
procedure in their visiray plates.

Breakfast over and everything made tidy and shipshape, Costigan turned
to Clio.

"Look here, girl; you've got to learn how to sleep. You're all in. Your
eyes look like you'd been on a Martian picnic and you didn't eat half
enough breakfast. You've got to sleep and eat to keep fit. We don't want
you passing out on us, so I'll put out this light, and you'll lie down
here and sleep until noon."

"Oh, no; don't bother. I'll sleep to-night. I'm quite...."

"You'll sleep now," he informed her, levelly. "I never thought of you
being nervous, with Bradley and me on each side of you. We're both right
here now, though, and we'll stay here. We'll watch over you like a
couple of old hens with one chick between them. Come on; lie down and go
bye-bye."

Clio laughed at the simile, but lay down obediently. Costigan sat upon
the edge of the great divan, holding her hand, and they chatted idly.
The silences grew longer, Clio's remarks became fewer, and soon her
long-lashed lids fell and her deep, regular breathing showed that she
was sound asleep. The man stared at her, his very heart in his eyes. So
young, so beautiful