vein, "that any might rise up when they smell that coffee?" He inhaled ecstatically. "Hmm. There's nothing like it."

"I hope I never make it that strong." And she giggled.

With a shock he found his knee touching hers. He drew away, wondering if it had been accidental. Later, when he tried to kiss her, she turned away, murmuring, "Not yet, Cliff. Give me time. It's so—so sudden."

He obeyed, turned his attention to other things. He could afford to wait. After all, there were nine years. A day or so—what did it matter?

It was more than a week before he managed to kiss her for the first time. And then it was nothing like Karen's kisses. But immediately he felt he was asking too much of Portia too soon. There'd be time for teaching.

They lost themselves in the intricacies of the ship, covering its complete operation, the records that had to be kept, the functions of each section, the matter of awakening the sleepers—which, Clifton explained, was quite simple, since the medocenter did most of the work, but still demanded certain procedures and precautions and delicate adjustments. He even taught her how to use the communications system that would become operable within a few months of Ostarpa. In all, they spent a good two months studying together every facet of the ship.

"It's so complicated," she said in an awed voice. She squeezed his hand she had taken to holding. "But you're an awfully good teacher, Cliff."

"And you're the loveliest student I ever had," he said, squeezing back and drawing closer to kiss her.

"Cliff!" she said, drawing away and giggling. "You're always joking. I'll bet I'm the only student you ever had."

"Well," he said lamely, "I hate to admit it, but you are."

And then they both laughed.

At length they finished everything he could show her on the ship. Then he brought up what had been on his mind ever since the day he awakened her.

"Portia," he said gravely, "I'm captain of this ship and as such I have invested in me the power to perform marriage."

Portia laughed. "You're always saying things so seriously, Cliff. So—so pontifically. Is that the word?"

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