"Yours?" Barton moved a chair slightly, and sat "That's right. Now, what do you want here?"

"I thought the cabin was yours and Helaise's, Jointly."

"It has been. But I have other arrangements in pros- pect, ;/ you don't mind."

, "Maybe I do,'* said Barton-watching the other man, taking his measure. "But it's not what / mind. The way I get it, you want to trade Helaise in for Myra, who is settled in with Cbeng. None of the other three are will- ing to change, but you're trying to bull it through anyway."

Terike ap Fenn glowered. "Yes, I am. I lived long enough in the Service, in a mustn't-touch situation. Now things have changed-we get to live the way we want to.

So don't try to stop me from doing it, because you can't."

Barton kept bis tone casual. "The hell you say, ap Fenn. The hell you do say."

By Barton's standards, ap Penn was terribly slow on the draw. Barton watched him make up his mind to rise and annihilate, watched him start to carry out his decision.

Barton didn't give him a chance; given ap Fenn's size and weight, he couldn't afford to. Taking a solid grip on the arms of his chair, he swung both feet up and planted them full force in ap Fenn's face'. Too bad there wasn't a dentist on the ship, he thought, as he rose wearily to stand over his late foe. And he wondered what else in the way of first aid would be needed.

Ironically, Myra Hake was Ship One's medical techni- cian. After stuffing and taping the nose, she dutifully plugged several dislodged teeth back into the unconscious man's bleeding gums. "But," she confided, "I'll be sur- prised if more than two of those will actually reroot"

She gave Barton a long, close look. "Did you have to be that rough?"

When it came to long, close looks, Barton knew he was second to few. "No, of course not," he said, finally. "I could have waited until he or Cheng killed the other. Or Helaise got her pride hurt bad enough to do something really stupid. And then I could have punished whoever was first out of bounds.

169.

"The way I did it, I went to the guy causing all the trouble and asked him to stop. He thought ha'd beat my head in but he wasn't fast enough, and lost some teeth. If you think I liked having to do it that way, you're out of your tree.

"You still want to second-guess me, Myra?"

Finally she shook her head. Her attempted smile was feeble, but Barton was convinced that she meant it "No, Barton. And thanks. Sooner or later he might have killed Cheng-and I happen to love Cheng.'*

"Well, / happen to think that makes Cheng a very lucky guy." He grinned. "You know I'm safely taken, so I guess it's okay to say that in my book you're one whole lot of fine lady."

She nodded. "Why, thanks. Barton." He turned to leave. "Oh, I almost forgot. Tell Limila for me that her trick worked, with the gravity." Barton scowled, puzzled.

"I mean, my clock's running again just fine." Glad of a little good news for a change, he grinned again and left her.

When he went to the galley for coffee, he found Tarle- ton and Limila waiting for him. "How did it go with ap Fenn?". Tarleton asked.

Barton didn't like the question. "Ask him yourself."

He set down the empty coffee cup and got out a beer in- stead.

"What's the trouble? Something you don't think I should know?" Barton shook his bead. Eventually, Tarle- ton would find out for himself-meanwhile, why bother with it? That was all.

But he wasn't to be rid of the subject. Liese Anajek and Vito Scalsa, of Compartment Five, joined them. The dark> wiry Scalsa, who was shaping up into a grade-A pilot, didn't say much. Liese, a small, rounded, birdlike girl from Indonesia, couldn't hide her curiosity. Oddly, she didn't look as if she could swat a fly, let alone handle Weapons. But she was good at her job.

"I hear you had to crumb Terike, Barton," she began.

"Wow! Teeth all over the deckl What was it, anyway?

Girl trouble?" Barton nodded; he didn't want to talk, but no point in denying the facts.

"He's certainly been the rounds," said Liese. "First Alene, then Myra, then me, then Helaise-and now he's after Myra again. I can't figure him out-did he go

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'* i.

i

through the list on a trial basis and then make up his mind, or is he just a butterfly at heart, ever flitting from flower to flower?"

"It doesn't matter," said Barton. "He's taken his last flit."

"How do you know?" the girl asked.

"Because everybody else is satisfied where they are.

It took a while, yes. But look at you two, for instance.

You're practically spot-welded."

Liese broke into laughter. Barton stood; the change of pace gave him a good opening to leave the group.

"Just a minute," said Tarleton. "Look-I don't want you to think I was criticizing. I wasn't. It was my job and you did it for me, so how you did it was up to you.

"But now I'm worried. Ap Fenn is a proud man, even a vain one. What if he tries to get back at you?"

Barton shrugged. "I'll think of something."

"Well, whatever it takes, you have my backing. He's good at his job, but on this expedition you're worth ten of him. So even if you have to ... I mean, Limila's good on weapons, too."

"Oh, hell, Tarleton! I'll go talk to the guy, when he's out of shock. He gives me any trouble a little bluff can't cure, and he'll get a change of roommates, all right."

Barton grinned, not nicely. "Ill move him into the ice- box-Cabin Six-with Hishtoo."

Finally, he got away from the uncomfortable conversa- tion. At least, Limila hadn't asked any questions.

Cheng had the pilot watch. Barton put him through some training exercises, although these had now become ritual rather than necessity. The man was embarrassed and grateful about the ap Fenn incident, and kept trying to thank Barton, but Barton wouldn't let the discussion leave the mechanics of the control panel. As he left, he clapped Cbeng on the shoulder. "Just let it lie; I'll take it as read." Cheng smiled in obvious relief.

In Number Three he found a tense, frightened Helaise ministering to ap Fenn, who growled in surly mumbles through swollen lips. Barton's presence obviously in- creased her discomfort, but she said nothing beyond a noncommittal greeting.

"Helaise," he said. Then, "Well,- ap Fenn, where do we stand?"

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Ap Fenn scowled but refused to speak.

Helaise turned on Barton. "How could you do that to him?"

"It wasn't easy. Ap Fennl I asked a question. Speak up."

"Maybe nest time you won't be so lucky." The words were muttered.

Explosively, Barton released an exasperated sigh.

"Next time? Man, this expedition is no schoolyard-it's a life-or-death matter, for the human race. I can't-and I won't-be bothered, worrying about some muscle boy with a childish grudge. Yes, that means you! Now hear me, ap Perm-and hear me well.

"If there is anything like a 'next time' with you, you know what happens? I'll tell you-you will damn well get out and walk."