Instinctively my gaze swept the deck. An Earth woman and child and a
small Venus man were in sight, but not within earshot.
"Why do you look so furtive?" she retorted. "Gregg, there's something
strange about this voyage. I'm no fool, nor you, so you must know it
as well as I do."
"Rance Rankin--" I prompted.
She leaned closer toward me. "He could fool you. But not me--I've
known too many magicians." She grinned. "I challenged him to trick
me. You should have seen him evading!"
"Do you know Ob Hahn?" I interrupted.
She shook her head. "Never heard of him. But he told me plenty at
breakfast. By Satan, what a flow of words that devil driver can
muster! He and the Englishman don't mesh very well, do they?"
She stared at me. I had not answered her grin; my mind was too busy
with queer fancies. Halsey's words: "Things are not always what they
seem--" Were these passengers masqueraders? Were they put here by
George Prince? And then I thought of Miko the Martian, and the burn
upon his arm.
"Come back, Gregg! Don't go wandering off like that!" She dropped her
voice to a whisper. "I'll be serious. I want to know what in hell is
going on aboard this ship. I'm a woman and I'm curious. You tell me."
"What do you mean?" I parried.
"I mean a lot of things. What we've just been talking about. And what
was the excitement you were in just before breakfast this morning?"
"Excitement?"
"Gregg, you may trust me." For the first time she was wholly serious.
Her gaze made sure no one was within hearing. She put her hand on my
arm. I could barely hear her whisper: "I know they might have a ray
upon us. I'll be careful."
"They?"
"Anyone. Something's going on. You know it. You are in it. I saw you
this morning, Gregg. Wild-eyed, chasing a phantom--"
"You?"
"And I heard the phantom! A man's footsteps. A magnetic, deflecting,
invisible cloak. You couldn't fool an audience with that, it's too
commonplace. If Rance Rankin tried--"