As her hand squeezed Honus Hayward's, then released it, she gave the little bulldog smile. "Several reasons, Barton. One's phobic. The idea of creatures that can influence my own mind, directly-well, I might jump ship without a suit."

Thinking back. Barton smiled. "Any connection, Arlie, with why you let me off the book about hypnotic drugs, back on Earth?"

She nodded. "Positive connection, yes. But even with- out that. Barton-at this point, I wouldn't leave Honus.

What we have-"

Sure. Permanent or not, they had to give ft tfee chance, if they could. And now, no reason why not. Barton's hand signified agreement, but he said, "I don't think you're done, Arieta."

The way she pushed Hayward to one side, and leaned forward, looked a little brusque. "Barton, do you think you're going to clear all the mess up, back oa Tilara, and with Tarleton when he gets there, with one tape?" She ignored his attempt to answer, and said, "I'm a witness all around. I can fill in to Tarleton, and then testify some more, back on Tilara. Do you see. Barton?"

"Or on Earth, if necessary." said Limila, and Arleta nodded.

Barton did, too. "Yeh, I see it. And I guess it's just as well, I won't be there. The screw-ups with the ap Fenns, and all." ' ^

A touch on his arm, and Fox said, "How do you feel about what you plan to do?" (

It took a little thinking, but not much. He turned and kissed her forehead, which was easy since her irf" yrdly grew down to cover it all yet, and said, "AH the^ ^years, Arlie, since the Demu grabbed me. I must be y loose from Earth as anyone ever has been. More thafts, those

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poor bastards on the ship we're going out to meet. By a long way. So I guess I'll just go do what I can." He saw Limila looking at him, and took her silence for agreement.

After all, she'd been uprooted for a long time, too.

And over the next days, while the ship's course curved to its nearest approach to Sisshain, nobody talked up any- thing touchy. .Hayward and Limila checked out the aux boat's supplies, to make sure everything was sufficient.

When the time came for the boat to launch, there was a lot of talk and bugging, but as near as Barton could re- member of it, the talk said little that they hadn't all said before. Once the boat dropped away, and Barton saw on the main screen that its vector was optimum to hit Sisshain, he put Honus Hayward and Arleta Fox out of his thinking.

Because now there wasnt room for them.

So he turned the big ship away from the vector that gave the aux boat an easy ride to Sisshain, and upped his accel so that rendezvous would be accomplished,

It was a long haul, and first Barton was moody and then he would come alive and feel animated. He knew the whole thing had to be as hard on Limila as it was on him, but he couldn't help it.

And then, way out in the dead belt, his detectors found signs of a drive wake. "It's a whopper, too," he said, "Not that there's much chance anything else would be out here, besides the ship we're after meeting." Also, the wake appeared suddenly, at full strength, rather than building from faintness, which fit with a ship slowing to "rest" and reversing course.

When their own began to vibrate. Barton knew they'd hit the part where the one ahead passed light-speed, and he steered outside the wake's cone. Saying, "To jar us, this far back, that thing had to start off with a lot of power."

For it was two more days before their quarry showed up on visual. It was the one they wanted, all right.

Eager to learn what had been happening on the ship ahead, Barton was all for giving hail immediately. Limila put her hand on his arm. "Barton, should we not first decide how much we wish to appear to know? Some of the knowledge from Bearpaw's tape may be more useful if we are not known to have it."

Politicking wasn't Barton's forte; he hadn't thought of

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soch aspects. Now he did. "Sure; you're right. Honey, sometimes I am the dumbest man in the world. Look, now-only Bearpaw and his little group of cronies, prob- ably, know he got those tape segments out. This Szabo character may know or may not. So, in general, we can't seem to know anything that's not on the official tapes. Which means we'd better give those another quick scan, while we have the chance. But all the personal stuff-" Yeh, he thought; there was more than a little, that they'd have to play close to the vest,

An idea came. "We are of one advantage, though, Limila. If need be, we can be of conference in their pres- ence." Then she smiled, because he bad spoken in Tilaran.

The man who answered Barton's call was Renton Bearpaw; Barton recognized his voice in the first few words, but didn't let on. He looked younger than Barton had expected, dark-skinned with black hair,/from the Amerind side. Barton had a touch of that heritage him- self, or so his grandfather had told him, but it didn't show. This man appeared to be a little taller and slimmer than Barton, but in the same size range. H^ gave bis name and rank, and said, "You're here a little early, which is good. I imagine I don't have to tell you how much we appreciate your volunteering. Joining our exile, all by yourself-well, it takes dedication, and-"

Turning his head, Barton saw that Limila was off camera, at that. He beckoned to her, and when Bearpaw saw her, his eyebrows raised. "Not exactly by myself,"

Barton said. "There's two of us." The brows still hovered, and suddenly Barton saw what the problem was. "I guess you wouldn't have seen any Tilarans before."

Before Bearpaw could answer, another roan joined him -< taller, blond man. The way he moved reminded Bar- ton of a big cat, and his expression gave him an air of confident power. So Barton wasn't surprised when the man said, "Ferenc Szabo speaking; I'm acting captain.

And your name and rank, please?"

AU this crap about rank, again. Well, use what works.

Barton said, "Barton. Vice-admiral of the first flff^* ^Now on detached service."

Szabo's forehead wrinkled, then cleared, "w, Barton. Well, we're honored, I'm sure. But yo

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didn't carry military rank. Or even quasi-military, such as ours here. I-"

"We had to pick up on that," Barton said, "in order to make sense with the second fleet.'* No point in divulging that the "we" in his statement was the editorial kind.

"You want to hear how the Demu war came out?"

"It's over? That's wonderful news. That is, I assume we won, or you wouldn't be here."

"Basically," said Barton, "we called it off without any real shooting. On our terms, though, so you could say we won, I guess."

He'd made a dent in this Szabo, but the man was re- silient. Now the frown came again. "I'm certainly glad to hear it. Barton. But, this vice-admiral business. Do you mean that you intend to assume command of this ship?

Certainly you outrank-"

"Hell, nol What kind of sense would it make for an outsider to move into the middle of a touchy situation and try to take over?"

"But then-"

Barton had him going, now. "Look, Captain-Acting Captain, whatever-you're in command and you'll get all the cooperation I can give you. You started talking rank, is all, so I thought I'd clear it, right now, that I'm nobody's flunkey."

Jeez.!-less than two minittes, and in a hassle already.

But Szabo nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course. Barton, once we match vectors, it's essential that we transship sup- plies as quickly as possible. That means every able- bodied person who can handle a spacesuit, working long hours. Including me. But once that's done, I want us to take time, you and I, to sit down to a solid briefing.

There's a lot you need to know about this ship, that you won't have found in the official tapes."

"I'm sure." And the briefing would help, because then he and Limila would have less cover to keep. Tricky keeping track, though, it was going to be. "And thanks, Captain. Now, do you want to talk me in yourself, to match up, or turn it over to the pilot on watch?"

"I'll do it," said Ferenc Szabo. He did a good job, too.

When the ships neared closely, they had to cut their Shields to get any closer. For moments. Barton was tempted to sleep-gun the other ship and run the show his

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own way, from scratch. But he put that thought aside;

Barton was given to doing things his own way, but this would be a little too much like playing God, and that had never been one of his inclinations. So he listened, instead, and learned something new. Which was that two ships at very close range-these new big ships, anyway -could synchronize their Shields into one, holding the two in a fixed configuration. "Theoretically," said Ferenc Szabo, "it can be done with three or more. But as far as I know, that's never been tried." For a moment he looked surprised. "In .fact," he said, "I believe thiy is the first time it's actually been done at all,"