“Oh, that’s awful,” the girl said. Jason wondered why it was awful. It didn’t make sense to his groggy mind. “It would have been much better if he stayed on Darkhan,” the girl continued. “He’s very nice looking. I think it’s a shame he has to die.”

That was too much for Jason. He pried one eye open, then the other. The voice belonged to a girl of about twenty-one who was standing next to the bed, gazing down at Jason. She was beautiful.

Jason’s eyes opened wider as he realized she was very beautiful- with the kind of beauty he had never found on the planets in the center of the galaxy. The women he had known all ran to pale skin, hollow shoulders, grey faces covered with tints and dyes.

They were the product of centuries of breeding weaknesses back into the race, as the advance of medicine kept alive more and more non-survival types.

This girl was the direct opposite in every way. She was the product of survival on Pyrrus. The heavy gravity that produced bulging muscles in men, brought out firm strength in strap-like female muscles. She had the taut figure of a goddess, tanned skin and perfectly formed face. Her hair, which was cut short, circled her head with a golden crown. The only unfeminine thing about her was the gun she wore in a bulky forearm holster. When she saw Jason’s eyes open she smiled at him. Her teeth were as even and as white as he had expected.

“I’m Meta, pilot of this ship. And you must be-”

“Jason dinAlt. That was a lousy takeoff, Meta.”

“I’m really very sorry,” she laughed. “But being born on a two-C planet makes you a little immune to acceleration. I save fuel too, with the synergy curve-”

Kerk gave a noncommittal grunt. “Come along, Meta, we’ll take a look at the cargo. Some of the new stuff will plug the gaps in the perimeter.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, almost clapping her hands with happiness. “I read the specs, they’re simply wonderful.”

Like a schoolgirl with a new dress. Or a box of candy. That’s a great attitude to have toward bombs and flamethrowers. Jason smiled wryly at the thought as he groaned off the couch. The two Pyrrans had gone and he pulled himself painfully through the door after them.

It took him a long time to find his way to the hold. The ship was big and apparently empty of crew. Jason finally found a man sleeping in one of the brightly lit cabins. He recognized him as the driver who had turned the car over to them on Cassylia. The man, who had been sleeping soundly a moment before, opened his eyes as soon as Jason drifted into the room. He was wide awake.

“How do I get to the cargo hold?” Jason asked.