girl said very carefully, "You've been very kind. I'd like to thank
you. I--I didn't really believe I would live to get to Orede."

Calhoun raised his eyebrows.

"I wish I could tell you everything you want to know," she added
regretfully. "I think you're ... really decent. But some thing...."

Calhoun said caustically, "You've told me a great deal. You weren't
born on Weald. You weren't raised there. The people of Dara--notice
that I don't say blueskins, though they are--the people of Dara have
made at least one space ship since Weald threatened them with
extermination. There is probably a new food shortage on Dara now,
leading to pure desperation. Most likely it's bad enough to make them
risk landing on Orede to kill cattle and freeze beef to help. They've
worked out--"

She gasped and sprang to her feet. She snatched out the tiny blaster
in her pocket. She pointed it waveringly at him.

"I have to kill you!" she cried desperately. "I--I have to!"

Calhoun reached out. She tugged despairingly at the blaster's trigger.
Nothing happened. Before she could realize that she hadn't turned off
the safety, Calhoun twisted the weapon from her fingers. He stepped
back.

"Good girl!" he said approvingly. "I'll give this back to you when we
land. And thanks. Thanks very much!"