"Why!" Mark repeated in amazement. "Why does any man want to leave there? It's a living death—and I was slowly going crazy."
"You had only been there a few months?"
"That's right."
"Why were you sent there?"
Mark hesitated for a split second, and decided he had better stick to the same story he'd told Aladdo. "I'm a 'political'," he said.
She nodded, as though satisfied. "I have never been actually in the swamp. I understand that you worked hard there?"
"Yes, very hard. We had to, to stay alive."
"You will work very hard for me—for the same reason. Perhaps you will wish you had stayed in the swamp. What can you do?"
Mark brightened. "Around a spaceship? I can handle rocket-tubes, or controls. Also probably any weapon you care to mention. Calculations and differential equations are pretty easy. I could almost quote you the entire Advanced Principles of Space Navigation...." With a rush of nostalgia Mark was remembering all the mechanics and mathematics of his four years in Government Spacer School. He went on with cool confidence, "I could take one of your atomomotors apart, jumble the pieces and put it together again. I'm really a mechanic rather than a spaceman. Spacery's only a hobby of mine...."
She swung her eyes over to the half-breed. Luhor nodded, grinning with huge amusement. She said to Mark: