I
have a great deal of business to work out."

"Sure. And he looks great in lipstick!"

It was a shot in the dark, but it went home. I wished I'd kept my
darned mouth shut; before I'd been suspecting it--now I knew. She
turned pink and tried to slap me, which won't work when the girl is
sitting on a bunk and I'm on my feet. "You mind your own business!"

"I'm doing that. Generations should stick together, and he's old
enough to be your father!"

She leaned back and studied me. Then she smiled slowly, and something
about it made me sick inside. "I like older men, Paul. They make
people my own age seem so callow, so unfinished. It's so comforting to
have mature people around. I always did have an Electra complex."

"The Greeks had plenty of names for it, kid," I told her. "Don't get
me wrong. If you want to be a slut, that's your own business. But when
you pull the innocent act on me, and then fall back to sophomore
psychology--"

This time she stood up before she slapped. Before her hand stung my
face, I was beginning to regret what I'd said. Afterwards, I didn't
give a damn. I picked her up off the floor, slapped her soundly on the
rump, pulled her tight against me, and kissed her. She tried
scratching my face, then went passive, and wound up with one arm
around my neck and the other in the hair at the back of my head. When
I finally put her down she sank back onto the bunk, breathing heavily.

"Why, Paul!" And she reached out her arms as I came down to meet them.
For a second, the world looked pretty good.

Then a man's hoarse scream cut through it all, with the sound of heavy
steps in panic flight. I jerked up. Jenny hung on. "Paul.... Paul...."
But there was the smell of death in the air, suddenly. I broke free
and was out into the corridor. The noise seemed to come from the shaft
that led to the engine room, and I jumped for it, while I heard doors
slam.

This time, there was a commotion, like a wet sack being tossed around
in a pentagonal steel barrel, and another hoarse scream that cut off
in the middle to a gargling sound.

* * * * *

I reached the shaft and started down the center rail, not bothering
with the hand-grips. I could hear something rustle below, followed by
silence, but I couldn't see a thing; the lights had been cut.

I could feel things poking into my back before I landed; I always get
the creeps when there's death around, and that last sound had been