"That's nonsense. We can't let a little physical revulsion stop us.
After all, there are some pretty grim things to be seen in this
universe."
"But nothing like this! I tell you, Eu, they're horrible! That's the
only word that can describe them."
"Take a stat projector--" I began.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked.
"Two vursts on this planet? What do you think I am?"
Her face hardened. "I don't know," she said coldly, "but I do know
this--if you don't come, I won't go."
I groaned. From her aura I could tell she meant every word. It
angered me, too, because Thalassan females usually don't defy a male.
"Remember," I said icily, "that you're not the only female on Thalassa."
"We're not on Thalassa," she said. Her aura was a curious leaden color,
shot through with sullen red flares and blotches.
"I have no right to force you," she went on stubbornly, "but I can't
handle them alone. You simply _have_ to come."
"But Ven--I'm a physical cipher. This gravity flattens me. I won't make
it."
"You will," she said. "I'll help you. But this job needs a male mind."
It was deliberate flattery, I suppose. But there was an element of
truth in it. Ven obviously couldn't do it, and obviously she thought I
could. I couldn't help feeling pride in her need for me. I liked the
feeling. For, after all, we hadn't been mated so long that there was
too great an amount of familiarity in our relationship. The Eugenics
Council had taken care of that very effectively when we announced our
plans for our sabbatical.
"All right--I'll go," I repeated.
With a quick light movement she touched my antennae with her primary
digits. The shock ran through me clear to my pads. "You're good," she
said--and the way she said it was an accolade.