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She was almost comical—her hair a mane about her, his robe ridiculously large on her small frame.
    She didn’t apologize for her attempted assault. Fists clenched at her side, she grated out venomously, “Who the hell are you, and what is going on here?”
    â€œCaptain Taylor, Mrs. Denver. Dr. Taylor, if you prefer. I’m with the Navy—”
    â€œWhat Navy?” she shouted furiously.
    He paused, drawing a deep breath. “The United States Navy, Mrs. Denver. Now—”
    â€œ Our Navy? I swear to you, Captain, Doctor—whatever you are!—that someone will pay for this! Since when do the Armed Forces have the right to abduct civilians? Has there been a military coup here?”
    She didn’t give him a chance to answer, but raged on.
    â€œSomeone is going to pay for this, Taylor.” She pointed her forefinger at him. “ You are going to pay for this! Oh! I don’t even know if I believe you! Since when does the Navy send men to small islands in spacesuits? Why are we in this boat? Where is my son? If you don’t bring me to him this instant, you’ll find yourself in a mangler, you—you maniac!”
    Katrina was amazed that after all her righteous threats he had the bloody nerve to stare at her with total irritation, then turn back to the stove to retrieve his coffee cup.
    â€œI—”
    â€œYou just saw your son on the screen, Mrs. Denver. You know perfectly well that he is sleeping comfortably. Now I repeat, would you like some coffee?”
    â€œCoffee,” Katrina repeated. “At a time like this, in a situation like this, you’re offering me coffee ?”
    He shifted slightly, leaning against the counter, studying her casually over the rim of his mug. “It is a customary morning drink,” he grated out, and she realized then that beneath the surface he was as uncomfortable as she was.
    â€œOh!” she raged out in frustration. If only she could hit him! One good, walloping belt across that stubborn, square jaw …
    He sighed at last and set his cup down. “Mrs. Denver, I would tell you how sorry I am that you became involved in this, except that in your present state of agitation—”
    â€œAgitation? I’m not agitated, I’m furious! I’m irate! I’m—
    â€œI repeat, Mrs. Denver, I’m very sorry about your involvement. Now, if you’d like some coffee, we can sit down at the table and try to discuss this like rational adults.”
    â€œRational …” She wanted to swear again, to strike out in her confusion and the fear that remained with her still. But suddenly, tears stung her eyes; she still hadn’t seen Jason, hadn’t been able to hold him, to assure herself that he really was sleeping, that he would awake happy and well.
    Her gaze inadvertently switched to the Formica table with all its test tubes. She still might be dealing with a madman dressed up in a Navy uniform. It just might be best to humor him along….
    â€œI’ll—I’ll have some coffee,” she said as pleasantly as she could manage. “If you’ll promise to take me to my son as soon as we’ve talked.”
    He turned to procure another cup. For a brief moment Katrina entertained the idea of reaching for something and cracking it over his head.
    He turned back to her with a warning in his smile, as if he had read her mind.
    â€œSugar, Mrs. Denver?”
    She shook her head. Forget force; she could never compete with him in the brawn department.
    He lifted the cup to her, indicating the table against the starboard wall. “There’s milk in the refrigerator if you’d like.”
    She nodded and very nervously opened the small door beneath her. She blanched then; the milk was in a test tube.
    She slammed the door shut, grating her teeth at his smooth grin. “You did that on purpose!”
    â€œNo, I didn’t. But you seem to want me to be Dr.