ase, and send me a hard copy."

"Yes, Ranger," the ship replied. "It may take some time, however."

"By morning will be fine. Medart out."

Corina stared at him, then decided she had to ask. "Why are you so
interested in me?"

"Isn't it obvious? You're my assistant, at least for now, and I need
to know a lot more about you than your name."

Corina wished she could probe him, but his shield made that impossible.
His interest, she was certain, was greater than normal about a simple
assistant--especially when he had mentioned having a couple of ideas
about her life-plans. But she had been raised to trust Rangers; if
that was all he thought it wise to say, it would be best not to
persist.

Medart grinned at her. "You want more, but you won't ask. That's
good, since I don't have the answers just yet. Why not let me call
Sunbeam up here, get her to take you to supper, then both of you relax
for the evening? We can talk more once I've gone through your records,
and I expect to have a war conference after that, when you'll have to
evaluate whatever you know about Thark for us."

* * * * *

Medart had been too keyed up by the young Irschchan's demonstration to
even try sleeping normally. Two hours on the sleep machine gave him
the equivalent of a good eight hours' rest, though, and by 0100 he was
keying the service panel in his cabin for a cup of coffee, strong and
black, plenty of sugar.

He gulped half the cup, scalding his tongue in the process, then sipped
at the rest, thinking about her and making plans for the day. First
thing to do was check her records, then report his findings to the
Emperor. From what he knew of her already, he fully expected those
reports to be favorable.

He finished the first cup of coffee, then checked his delivery slot,
finding Chang had accomplished its mission; the slot held a hard copy
of Corina's records, complete with summary. He got a second cup of
coffee, taking it and the printout over to his work area.

Several hours passed as he studied those records with growing
satisfaction. The more he read, the more promising Corina Losinj
looked. The only flaw he could find was in her psych profile; it
showed a lack of self-confidence. Medart wondered at that, because she
certainly didn't lack ability. Still, self-evaluations were
notoriously inaccurate--and for his current purpose, too little
confidence was better than too much.

Finally he