"Ever hear of the D.O.'s?" I asked quietly.
"Will chewing chlorophyl tablets cure 'em?" she asked.
I laughed so hard that I cried.
"I don't think so," I answered automatically, and got busy checking the breech assembly on one of the ship's rocket launchers.
"Lay off that, apeface," Pat said. "We won't need it."
"How come?"
"If anybody comes around looking unfriendly, just give 'em this on the radio," she said, and whistled off a recognition signal in Martian.
I turned slowly away from the launcher.
Thorsten did have a deal with the Marties. What was more, Pat was in on it. She had to be.
She looked at my face.