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shook his jowls.
    “No, Syll, no!”
    Svensk coughed.
    “Look, sir,” said Pomeroy. “Morgan’s fixing to make a night of it. He don’t quit. How’s for you and me to go by the office and see about a place to sleep?”
    Miss Appleby sniffed. “That would be useful.”
    The din continued unabated. Reluctantly, Quent went off with Pomeroy to the Midbase station offices, where they found one billet for a female only. Midbase was bulging with colonists awaiting transfer on Route Leo. In the end the male complement of the Rosenkrantz settled down to doze uncomfortably on a textile shipment and to endure the jibes of the cargomen when the lights came on.
    Horrible sounds came from the Rosenkrantz all morning. After noon mess Morgan appeared to tire. The officers went warily back on board.
    “Have to give him time to cool down,” said Pomeroy. As if on cue the voders erupted briefly. A few minutes later they did it again. The others went to their hammocks, leaving Quent in the wardroom to brood.
    He was still there when Miss Appleby came in.
    “I’m afraid I was rude to you, Lieutenant Quent.”
    He looked up dully. She seemed to be all aglow.
    “Actually what you did was ever so lucky for me.”
    She smiled, setting down a parcel. She served herself tea and a cookie. Instead of taking them to her quarters she came back and sat down at the table with an excited wiggle.
    Quent’s eyes opened. He sat up.
    “That Mrs. Lee,” she confided happily. “You know, the colonist? She’s got twenty meters of Gregarin passamenterie. It took me all day to talk her into swapping me one meter for a petite suit liner and a case of bottlehots. I’d never have got it if we hadn’t been held up, thanks to you.”
    She glowed at him over her tea bulb.
    “Well, I—”
    “It’ll make the vest of all time for Bob,” she sighed. “Bob loves vests—off duty, of course.”
    Quent put his head back on his fists. He had been raised with two older sisters.
    “That’s—great.”
    “You’re depressed,” she observed.
    Quent heaved a sigh and shook his head. Against his better judgment he found himself looking into her large green eyes.
    “Miss Appleby,” he blurted. “When I came on this ship I was completely unprejudiced against Non-Humans. Completely. I welcomed the chance to show my father that other beings were just as fit to serve in space as—” His voice faded. “Now I just don’t know. This mess—that insufferable Morgan—”
    “Yours is a strange reaction, Lieutenant. We girls always say it’s much safer on a ship with one of Morgan’s people. They’ll do anything for the ship. Like the Kip, you know.”
    “What do you know about the Kipsuga?”
    “Why, just that their engineer saved them. He got them back to Central. Ikka somebody. Pom says he died.”
    Quent frowned.
    “Funny they didn’t tell me about him.”
    “Probably your father is the reason they keep things from you, don’t you think, Lieutenant?” She stood up, hugging her parcel. “They’re fine people,” she told him earnestly. “You just have to understand their ways. That’s what Bob says. He says a lot of Space Force officers are prejudiced without knowing it.”
    Quent looked up at her. She radiated Galactic amity.
    “Could be,” he said slowly. “Miss Appleby, maybe I haven’t—”
    “Try a little harder,” she encouraged him. “That Mrs. Lee said a newsman was asking about you.”
    “It is time to eat.”
    The harsh croak cut her off. Svensk unfolded himself from the ladder.
    “Right away.”
    Appleby vanished. Svensk turned a suspicious eye on Quent.
    “Serpent,” jeered Sylla, bouncing down, “You reptiles did not understand that time existed before until we provided you with thermal vests. At home we have still the taboo against eating lizards because of their unfortunate tendency to putrefy while torpid.”
    “Activity fails to correlate with intelligence,” Svensk clacked haughtily.
    “On the other hand,”