d him. A key and a gun.

"You will need these," she went on. "He will be in one of the upper
rooms. His name is Genarion. Perhaps he will talk with you, especially
if you surprise him. But remember, he is deadly. His scientific
knowledge is a more frightful weapon than this. So do not hesitate to
use violence."

Newlin fumbled the gun into a pocket, fingered the key. It was slim as a
needle and as smooth. Without comment, he stared at her as weariness and
disgust strangled him.

"Tell me your price," she said quickly, as if in haste to get words out
before either could think too much. "I will pay--now."

Shabby bargaining, he thought. But he would call her bluff and force her
to back down. "Not money," he said savagely. "I don't kill for money.
For a woman, yes. I want you."

He expected anger, scorn, even hatred. She gasped and her face went pale
and hard. Wilting under his glare, she nodded.

"Yes, even that--if you wish. I have no choice."

Newlin felt sick, empty. He no longer desired her, even if she were
willing. He despised her and himself. But a bargain was still a bargain.
He shrugged.

Like an outsize toy, a child's model of a spaceship, the oddly graceful
structure towered upward into arching darkness. Like her, it was
slender, radiant, beautiful. Bitterly, he caught the girl, dragged her
to him, felt her flesh yielding to him. She leaned and met his lips with
hers. The kiss was cold and ugly as writhing snakes. Cold. Ugly.
_Alien...._

* * * * *

The key went in smoothly, did not turn. It must have been impregnated
with magnetism. Somewhere electronic relays clicked switches faintly.
The door was open, its movement indescribable in familiar terms. It
neither slid, nor swung on hinges. There was no door, much as if a light
had switched off.

A rush of air came out. It had the high, sharp tang of ozone, and
something unfamiliar.

Newlin stood inside what was obviously an airlock valve. A door inside
had opened soundlessly.

He went on. Beyond the inner doorway was a large circular room. Its
dimensions seemed far greater than Newlin would have guessed from the
exterior of the building.

This was no mere dwelling, no laboratory or workshop. It was a spaceship
of radical design. Elfin stair-ladders spiralled up and down. The
girders seemed impossibly delicate and fragile, as if their purpose was
half-decoration, half-functional; and stresses involved were
unimpor