"She's never been caught outside the safety zone, and we've all been
watching her like hawks. In fact, she's the only one of us all who has
never been alone with him for a minute. No, darling, she isn't playing
games. She's playing for keeps, and she's a mighty smooth worker."

"Huh!" Beverly emitted a semi-ladylike snort. "What's so smooth about
showing off man-hunger that way? Any of us could do that--if we would."

"Miaouw, miaouw. Who do you think you're kidding, Bev, you sanctimonious
hypocrite--_me_? She has staked out the biggest claim she could find.
She's posted notices all over it and is guarding it with a pistol. Half
your month's salary gets you all of mine if she doesn't walk him up the
center aisle as soon as we get back to Earth. We can both learn a lot
from that girl, darling. And I, for one am going to."

"Uh-uh, she hasn't got a thing _I_ want," Beverly laughed again, still
lightly. Her friend's barbed shafts had not wounded her. "And I'd much
rather be thought a hypocrite, even a sanctimonious one, than a
ravening, slavering--I can't think of the technical name for a female
wolf, so--_wolfess_, running around with teeth and claws bared, looking
for another kill."

"You _do_ get results, I admit." Stella, too, was undisturbed. "We don't
seem to convince each other, do we, in the matter of technique?"

* * * * *

At this point the Hilton-Bells _tete-a-tete_ was interrupted by Captain
Sawtelle. "Got half an hour, Jarve?" he asked. "The commanders,
especially Elliott and Fenway, would like to talk to you."

"Sure I have, Skipper. Be seeing you, Temple," and the two men went to
the captain's cabin; in which room, blue with smoke despite the best
efforts of the ventilators, six full commanders were arguing heatedly.

"Hi, men," Hilton greeted them.

"Hi, Jarve," from all six, and: "What'll you drink? Still making do with
ginger ale?" asked Elliott (Engineering).

"That'll be fine, Steve. Thanks. You having as much trouble as we are?"

"More," the engineer said, glumly. "Want to know what it reminds me of?
A bunch of Australian bushmen stumbling onto a ramjet and trying to
figure out how it works. And yet Sam here has got the sublime guts to
claim that he understands all about their detectors--and that they
aren't anywhere nearly as good as ours are."

"And they _aren't_!" blazed Commander Samuel Bryant (Electronics).
"We've spent six solid weeks looking for som