She struggled up and pulled off the mask. She looked mystified at her surroundings until she heard others calling for air outside. Then she flicked her eyes at Ole Doc and it Was his turn to sigh.

"Ugh!" said Hippocrates. "Nicotine, women! You never live to be ten thousand, I bet. Next, rum!"

"Fine idea," said Ole Doc. "My dear, if you'd like to step this way-"

Hippocrates watched him open doors for her. He knew Ole Doc would take her to a stateroom where she could shower and shift into Ole Doc's robe. And then in the salon that Michalo had newly designed, they'd sit in soft lights and talk about the whine of violins. Ugh! It had been exactly nineteen years and six days since Ole Doc had shown any interest in a woman- The little slave paused. He grinned. After all, this was Ole Doc's birthday, It was hard enough to live hundreds of years with nothing

ever exciting any more. Hippocrates knew for his people, gypsum metabolism though they were, normally went ut- terly stale at twelve thousand and faded into complete boredom. Humans lived faster in the head-

He grinned and swung up into a gun turret. Let him have his birthday and three cheers for it.

But the ship called Hippocrates back sharply. And he was again intensely annoyed with Ole Doc. Women. Now look at the trouble that was coming. The ship was a Scoutcraft Raider for atmosphere travel and it had enough armament to slaughter a city and it was manned with humans who, even at this distance, looked extremely unreliable.

It landed on the edge of the screen and five guards leaped down, blasters ready to cover the debark of a huge-shouldered, black-garbed man. Hippocrates was re- minded of a vulture and almost whiffed the odor that always clings to those birds. He turned on the near screen and disregarded the fact that its force kicked about twenty slaves a dozen feet or more outward from the Morgue.

The five scouted the gra.s.s, found the holes where the guards had been and fished up bits of melted bra.s.s. They stood and glared at the slaves who, seeing the ship had begun to howl and plead and creep toward that as they had toward Hippocrates.

The big human stopped and looked at the Morgue. Its stern was toward him and he didn't see the crossed ray rods on the nose or the meaningful letters U.M.S.S.

Morgue, Ole Doc Methuselah.

"You better stop," said Hippocrates in the high turret.

The men stopped.

The big human looked up at the turret. He signaled his men to fan out and for his ship to depress its heaviest cannon. Hippocrates shivered a little for he was not sure his screen would hold against the size of those muzzles.

"I'm Big Lem Tolliver!" shouted the human. "This is Air, Limited talking and if you got a good reason why my Persephons ain't alive, spill it, for I ain't withholding my fire long."

"You better go away!" yelled Hippocrates in derision.

"If my master sees you, he'll cut you open to see the size of your liver or drill holes in your skull to equalize the vacuum. You better go!"

"Only a hundred and fifteen in this gang," said a shrunken human being who reached only to Tolliver's elbow but who served him as a lieutenant of sorts. "Ac- cording to the radio report, that's one missing."

"Search the ship!" said Big Lem Tolliver.

Hippocrates swooped down with his 600 mm. "Stop and go away. This is the U.M.S.S. Morgue and we specialize in dead men named Lem Tolliver."

He thought this was pretty apt. After all, he'd never imagined being able to convert lines from "Tales of the Early s.p.a.ce Pioneers." He was a success. It stopped them.

"s.p.a.cec.r.a.p!" said Lem Tolliver in a moment. "That's no U.M.S. ship! You'd never steal a slave if you were."

"Slaves are U.M.S. business, pardner," said Hippoc- rates. "And even if they weren't, we'd make it our business, son. You going to go along and tell your mama to wipe your nose or am I going to have to wipe it myself-with 'sploders? Now git!" He was certainly con- verting well today.

"Up there, Tinoi. Search it and if they've got the miss- ing one, haul her out. And then we'll see about the murder that's been done here amongst our people."

Tinoi, the shrunken one, hung back. He'd never had a taste for 600 mm. stuff himself. Let them as would be heroes, he valued his daily issue of doi.

Hippocrates saw the hesitation and grew very brave. He spanged a dozen sploders into the earth before the group and would have shot a thousand more as warning if the Scoutcraft Raider, ordered so, had not replied with a resounding vomit of fire.

The Morgue reeled as the screen folded. The top turret caved into tangled smoke. The side port fused and dripped alloy gone molten. And Big Lem Tolliver looked on in some annoyance for there went his chance of recovering the missing repossessed slave.

The men went about collecting the hundred and fifteen and forming them into lines. They were bitter because they could not imagine what had burst these perfectly good chains and they had to tie lines through the broken links.

"Air!" moaned the prisoners.

"Stow it," said Big Lem. "We'll teach you to breathe air you didn't pay for. Form 'em up boys and get them on

their way. That s.p.a.ceship, or what's left of it, is a shade too hot for me."

"You ain't goin' to make me escort them," said Tinoi.

"It's a heck of a walk to Minga. I bought them Per- sephon-castes to do the walking."

"If I say walk, you'll walk," said Big Lem. "And if I say walk straight out into s.p.a.ce, you'll walk. And if I say hoof it from here to Galactropolis, you'll walk every con- demned light-year of it barefoot. If I can't have my orders obeyed, who can? And if you can't obey Big Lem Tolli- ver, you can't obey n.o.body. Who thought up this company?

Who makes it work? Who handles all the paper work and hires politicians and abdicates kings when he chooses?

Who keeps the whole confounded planet running and your belly full? Lem Tolliver, that's who. And what's Air, Limited but Lem Tolliver? Ana* what's Arphon but Lem Tolliver? And that makes me a planet."

This syllogism caused a return of good humour. He expanded, rocked on his heels and looked down at Tinoi.

"Yessir. That makes me Arphon, or mighty doggone near.

Well, Tinoi, do you walk?"

"Guess so, Arphon," grumped Tinoi and appeared very beaten about it. He knew better than to appear elated.

Somebody else would have got the detail if he hadn't objected and it would be fine to breathe something else besides the ozone stink of the Scoutcraft Raider. Too, he could always sell a slave or two to some farm and turn in a death report. "Guess I'll have to," mumbled Tinoi, "but I'll need two gunners and a marine off the ship, and don't go making me take Connoly along."

"That's Connoly and two marines you'll get," said Tolliver. "Now line vem up and get-"

"Wait," said Tinoi, forgetting his elation about Connoly who could surely build them litters for the slaves to pack.

He stared at the smoking side of the s.p.a.ceship, "There's somebody alive."

And indeed it appeared to be the truth Crawling back- wards out of the smoke came a seared being, tugging at the boot of a second. Tinoi was all action He swooped in, holding his breath against the fumes and s.n.a.t.c.hed up the obviously live one.

Coughing and beating out a burning spot on his coat, he let her slide into the gra.s.s "There's the missing one," he said. "Now we can get on our way "

Big Lem looked down at her and made a disdaining face. She was very badly singed property, an enormous burn blotting out almost all of her face and destroying one eye. Wounded and bedraggled, it was plain that she would no longer gladden the eyes of man.

Tinoi looked at her tag, the one around her ankle, and then stared at the ear where the repossession tag should have been and was not. He looked at his boss. "This is Dotty Grennan, the one they picked up "specially for you, She sure is spoiled for looks."

"Throw her into the line. Some men will buy anything,"

said Big Lem.

"Don't guess she'll be able to walk much," said Tinoi.

"What's that to me? Throw her in. Captain! Captain!

Here, you Foster. Get up there and tell my captain to send Connoly and two marines out here and stand by to take off."

The man named Foster leaped up into the Scoutcraft Raider with the message and came back shortly eating a chocolate bar to walk the line up.

"Air," moaned the slaves. "Air!"

"Shut up, you repossessed mothers' sons," said Tinoi, beating them into line with the b.u.t.t of his blastick. "Form up, form up or I'll give you a lot more air than you'll ever be able to use" He tried four times to make an old man stand on his feet and then left off profanity, and held an open hand toward Tolliver.