"I don't know where to start-it's bad, most of it. Oh, the work on the fleet itself is going well, but-" He began with the party-ap Fenn's French leave, the attempted rape, and the man's death from it.

"Against her wisi^?" Limila shook her head. "He is as well dead. But there is more-?"

He told of Hishtoo's escape, and the parts Helaise and Eeshta had played. ". . . And that ship has a laser; we can't let the Demu have it, to copy. But that's not the worst." And haltingly, he explained the plight of the Tilar- an hostages.

"Oh. no. Barton-not livajj! And poor Gerain, too. But what can you do?" So he told her of the strike force and its limited hopes.

"Day after tomorrow, we leave. We had to wait until the new weapons are installed-plus a few other things we need-I'll explain later. With our greater acceleration factor, we still have a good chance to catch Hishtoo be- fore he reaches Sisshain."

"Sisshain?"

"That's where he told Eeshta he was going-and it's the jackpot planet, the one in the dust cloud, that the Ormthan mentioned. But when-if-we do" catch him. . . .

"It's bad, Limila-very bad. He won't surrender- not to animals. He'll try to use livajj and Gerain for lever- age-'crab salad'-remember? And I can't let that hap- pen, or give in, either. I'll have to kill-kill the ship, and all of them. Kill livajj!"

She took his hand and squeezed it, gently. "Barton.

246.

Don't you think livajj-and Gerain-would prefer that?

Even if Hishtoo were not to rend their flesh. They have seen the pictures-what was done to me, to Siewen and the Freak. livajj is young; to suffer that would break her mind. No, Barton. I know you would save them it you could. But if not, the death is better."

He found he was gripping her hand brutally, and loosed his grasp. "Yes-you're right; 1 know that. But still. . . . "

"You will do what you can. As always. Barton." Gently, he kissed her.

"Okay," he said. "For now, enough about my worries.

But"-he gestured toward her robe, where it bulged strangely-"what's all this? About you being hooked up to plumbing. Is something wrong?"

"No-nothing. Oh, I must tell you-all that has hap- pened-I almost forgot. It is the tits. Barton. They are real!"

Barton looked askance at the bulges. "That big?"

She laughed. "No, that is the machinery. So that my body accepts them." Biochemical jargon wasn't Limila's strong point in English, nor Barton's in any language, so the explanation took a time. But he did gather, immedi- ately, that the new breasts were transplants.

"She was climbing, and fell from a height and did not live. She was young, Barton-very young, so they are quite small. I have asked will they grow to the size of my age; none can say. But I do ribt care. It matters only that they will be real upon me." Then her face showed sadness.

"But even so. Barton, I would not have them if I couid choose her to be alive instead."

"I know." Briefly, before asking further, he hugged her.

Barton knew about transplants-how the body's own immune reactions rejected foreign tissue. Unfamiliar enzymes were treated as hostile invaders and repelled.

On Earth, the suppression of immune reactions worked as a stopgap method, but seldom permanently.

The Tilarans, if he had it right, removed the offending enzymes from the blood as it returned from the new tissue, so that the defensive mechanism was not alerted. At the same time, Limila's blood was gradually shifting the enzyme balance of the transplants until it would be com- patible with her own.

"And soon," she said, "I can be free of the tubes and machines."

"How soon?"

247.

"Five days, they say-maybe six. Why?-Oh-**

"Yes. How much of a Job is it to disconnect the plumb- ing? Because the strike force lifts-has to lift-in two days." The muscles of his face twisted his expression into harsh lines. "Will I have to leave you behind?"

She frowned slightly, thinking. "No. I was told, when I asked of what marks would be left on me. At the start, you know, it was thought to put dead matter into m^, for appearance only. I said no. Then was proposed the pulling of fat layer and skin. tying it from inside so as to protrude convincingly, but lacking the sensations that once were there. I was ready to agree. But when the girl fell and died^ I was offered these of her. And so I asked what it would mean."

"And?" Why, Barton wondered, did he have to love a woman who took so long to get to the goddamn point?

"Oh-the tubing, yes. It is not difficult. It is to be pulled, when the time comes, gently and slowly. I am told the pain will not be great. As it leaves me, there will be some blood, but not of danger. The bandaging will be as of small cuts. No, Barton-I am not to have to stay be- hind."

His sigh of relief was more evident than he would have wished. "That's good. I wouldn't have liked to do that"

"Nor I, Barton. As it is, I have been from you too long."

He looked at her. "Yen. Well-after you're unhooked from those tubes-"

A sound at the door interrupted them-something be- tween a knock and a scratch. "Be of welcome," Limila said.

A woman entered-the one Barton had met on the screen, who granted information like pulling teeth. He smiled at her; after all, what the hell. . . ?

"It is of time for feeding," she said. "Are both of plea- sure to eat here?"

"It -is of best convenience," said Limila. The woman brought a wheeled cart, laden with covered dishes, and left with Limila's thanks. Barton realized he'd been hun- gry for some time.

They seldom talked during meals, and did not now. As he finished. Barton looked at his watch. Unadopted to the longer Tilaran day, it was of little use to him off the ship- except to measure specific intervals, as now. But he no- ticed that his Tilaran driver was due to return roon,

248.

"Barton-was it a good meal?" He realized he had hardly noticed.

"Good, yes. But I was thinking too much of other things to appreciate it as it deserved."

"Yes-I saw. You do that too much. More than you should."

"I know," he said. "Maybe later, when there's not so damned much to worry about-oh well. Look-when can you come back to the ship?"

"I will ask. Tomorrow, if it may be, would be best."

"It would." He looked at her- "Limila-I wish you were free of all that hardware. Well, it won't be too long .... I guess I'd better go outside now. The driver should be back with the car pretty soon."

He bent to kiss her. When he would stop, she held him.

"Barton? As we ate, I, too, thought of other things. And I think that if I were to move so as to lie this way, and you were to-no, more here to the right of me. Shall we see, now . . . ?

"Barton, see the opening in this cover, over where it grows to me? Reach, touch the tip of your finger inside.

They say the nerves are to heal together, but I do not- Barton! I feel your touch! Barton, it will be as it was!"