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The only pall came as Pierre LaRoque passed by, laughing softly. Dr. Martine went to ask him to join them, but the little man just shook his head, then resumed walking in a slow path around the rim of the ship.

Helene stood next to Jacob. She touched the hand that still held Culla’s liquitube.

“Speaking of coincidences, did you take a close look at the formula for Culla’s supplement?” She stopped and looked up, Culla came up to them and bowed.

“If you are finished now, Jacob. I will put thish shticky tube away.”

“What? Oh sure, Culla. Here. Now what were you saying, Helene?”

Even when her face was serious it was hard not to be struck by her beauty. It’s the initial “falling” of love that, for a time, makes listening to one’s lover difficult.

“…I just saying that I noticed an interesting coincidence when Dr. Martine read that chemical formula aloud. Do you remember earlier, when we were talking about organic dye laser’s? Well…”

Helene’s voice faded away. Jacob could see her mouth move, but all he could make out was one word: “…coumarin…”

There was trouble erupting below. His channeled neurosis had mutinied. Mr. Hyde was trying to stop him from listening to Helene. In fact, he suddenly realized, his other half had been holding back its usual tithe of insight ever since Helene had hinted, in their conversation at the edge of the deck, that she wanted him to give her the genes she’d be taking to the stars when the Calypso jumped.

Hyde hates Helene! he realized with a shock. The first girl I’ve met who could begin to replace what I’ve lost (a tremor, like a migraine, threatened to split his skull) and Hyde hates her! (The headache came and went instantly).

What was more, that part of his unconscious had been holding out on him. It had seen all of the pieces and hadn’t let them surface. This was a violation of the agreement. It was intolerable, and he couldn’t figure out why!

“Jacob, are you all right?” Helene’s voice was back. She looked at him quizzically. Over her shoulder he could see Culla, looking down at them from near the food machines.

“Helene,” he said abruptly. “Listen, I left a small box of pills by the Pilot Board. They’re for these headaches I get sometimes… could you please look for them for me?” He brought a hand up to his forehead and grimaced.

“Why… sure,” Helene touched his arm. “Why don’t you come with me? You could lie down. We’ll talk…”

“No,” he took her by the shoulders and gently turned her the right way. “Please, you go. I’ll wait here.” Furiously, he fought down panic at the time it was taking to get her away.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” Helene said. As she walked away Jacob sighed with relief. Most of those present had their goggles on their belts, per standing orders. The competent and efficient Commandant deSilva had left hers at her couch.

When she had gone about ten meters toward her destination, Helene began to wonder.

Jacob never left any box of pills by the Pilot Board. I would have known it if he had. He wanted to get rid of me! But why?

She looked back. Jacob was just turning away from a food machine with a protein roll in his hand. He smiled at Martin and nodded at Ghen, then started to walk past Fagin to get out onto the open deck. Behind him Culla watched the group with bright eyes, near the gravity-loop hatch.

Jacob didn’t look like he had a headache at all! Helene felt hurt and confused.

Well if he doesn’t want me around, that’s fine. I’ll make a pretense of looking for his damned pills!

She started to turn when, suddenly, Jacob tripped on one of Fagin’s root pods and went sprawling on the deck. The protein roll bounced away and fetched up against the Parametric Laser housing. Before she could react, Jacob was on his feet again, smiling sheepishly. He walked over to pick up the food ball. Bending over, his shoulder touched the barrel of the laser.

Blue light flooded the room instantly. Whooping alarms howled. Helene instinctively covered her eyes behind her arm and grabbed for the goggles at her waist.

They weren’t there!

Her couch was three meters away. She could picture where she was exactly, and where she’d stupidly left the goggles. She turned and dove for them, coming up again in one movement, the protectors over her eyes.

There were bright spots everywhere. The P-laser, shoved out of plumb with the ship’s radius, was sending its beam bouncing about the concave inner surface of the Sunship’s shell. The modulated “contact code” flashed against the deck and dome.

Bodies writhed on the deck near the food machines. No one had approached the P-laser to shut it off. Where were Jacob and Donaldson? Were they blinded in the first instant?

Several figures struggled near the gravity-loop hatch. In the flashing, sepulchral light she saw that they were Jacob Demwa and the chief engineer… and Culla. They… Jacob was trying to shove a bag over the alien’s head!

There was no time to decide what to do. Between intervening in the mysterious fight and eliminating a possible danger to her ship, Helen didn’t have to choose.

She ran over to the P-laser, ducking under faint, crisscrossing trails, and tore out the plug.

The flashing points of light stopped abruptly, except for one that coincided with a shriek of pain and a crash, near the hatchway. The alarms shut off and suddenly there was only the sound of people moaning.

“Captain, what is it? What’s happening?” The voice of the pilot rang out over the intercom. Helene picked up the mike from a couch nearby.

“Hughes,” she said quickly. “What’s ship’s status?”

“Status nominal, sir. But it’s a good thing I had my goggles on! What the devil happened?”

“P-laser got loose. Continue as is. Hold her steady about a klick from the herd. I’ll be back to you soon.” She released the mike and raised her head to shout. “Chen! Dubrowsky! Report!” She peered about in the dimness.

“Over here, skipper!” It was Chen’s voice. Helene cursed and tore off the goggles. Chen was over beyond the hatchway. He knelt over a figure on the deck.

“It’s Dubrowsky,” the man said. “He’s dead. Fried through the eyes.”

Dr. Martine cowered behind Fagin’s thick trunk. The Kanten whistled softly as Helene hurried over.

“Are you two okay?”

Fagin let out a long note that sounded vaguely like a slurred “yes.” Martine nodded once, jerkily, but she stayed clutching Fagin’s trunk. Her goggles were skewed over her face. Helene took them off.

“Come on, Doctor. You have patients.” She pulled at Martine’s arm. “Chen! Go to my office and get the aid-kit! On the double!”

Martine started to get up, then sagged back shaking her head.

Helene gritted her teeth and hauled up on the arm she held, suddenly, snapping the older woman upwards with a gasp. Martine staggered to her feet.

Helene slapped her once across the face. “Wake up, Doctor! You’ll help me with these men or so help me I’ll kick your teeth in!” She took Martine’s arm and supported her across the few meters to where Chief Donaldson and Jacob Demwa lay.

Jacob moaned and began to stir. Helene felt her heart rise when he took his arm away from his face. The burns were superficial and they hadn’t touched the eyes. Jacob had his goggles on.

She steered Martine over next to Donaldson and made her sit. The chief engineer was badly seared along the left side of his face. The left lens of his goggles was smashed.

Chen arrived on the run, carrying the aid-kit.

Dr. Martine turned away from Donaldson and shuddered. Then she looked up and saw the crewman with the medical bag. She held out her hands for it.