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had a 1-G passenger aboard. You might have eased up a bit on your usual bone-breaking take-off.”
    “It doesn’t seem to have harmed him much — but what’s he doing here?”
    Jason felt mild surprise that the second voice was a girl’s. But he wasn’t interested enough to go to the trouble of opening his sore eyes.
    “Going to Pyrrus. I tried to talk him out of it, of course, but I couldn’t change his mind. It’s a shame, too, I would like to have done more for him. He’s the one who got the money for us.”
    “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 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 never found in the civilized galaxy. The women he had known all ran to pale skin, hollow shoulders, gray 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 nonsurvival 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 straplike female muscles. She had the figure of a goddess, tanned skin and perfectly formed face. Her hair, which was cut short, circled her head like 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 take-off, Meta.”
    “I’m really very sorry,” she laughed. “But being born on a two-G planet does make one 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 towards 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.
    The other told him, closed his eyes and went instantly back to sleep before Jason could even say thanks.
    In the hold, Kerk and Meta had opened some of the crates and were chortling with joy over their lethal contents. Meta, a pressure canister in her arms, turned to Jason as he came through the door.
    “Just look at this,” she said. “This powder in here — why you can eat it like dirt, with less harm. Yet it is instantly deadly to all forms of vegetable life. . . .” She stopped suddenly as she realized Jason didn’t share her extreme pleasure. “I’m sorry. I forgot for a moment there that you weren’t a Pyrran. So you don’t really understand, do you?”
    Before he could answer, the PA speaker called her name.
    “Jump time,” she said. “Come with me to the bridge while I do the