“Have you a scout ship here?” Lors asked.

“Certainly. We use them to make reports. The Terrans would pick up the radio waves otherwise.”

“How about a uniform?”

“You can borrow one of Thesa’s. You’d never get into one of mine.”

“Fine. As soon as I’m properly attired, we’ll go see Zark.” Grinning at Narvi, Lors followed Thesa into the bedroom for the uniform.

Later, dressed in the uniform of a Firstspacer, Lors checked himself in the mirror of the bedroom making certain that he was properly dressed. Trousers bloused neatly into the black, half boots, the yellow stripes perfectly aligned, the cuffs of the tunic fastened at his wrists and throat, the emblems of the 8th. Terran Command on the collar, the patch of rank on his left shoulder sleeve. Yes, he was all set. Precise.

He grinned at Thesa. “Feels good,” he said.

The sandy haired spacer handed him the black leather belt containing the auto-pistol and the cartridge belt. He buckled it on, feeling the familiar weight drag at his right hip.

“Okay?” Thesa asked.

[p107]Lors nodded. “Thanks for the loan,” he said and went out to where Narvi, already dressed, awaited him.

[p107]

[p

]

“How’s your head?” Narvi asked.

“Fine.”

“Let’s go, then.”

They walked, wordlessly, out to the barn. The blond snapped on a small light near the scout ship and Lors went up close to examine it.

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