"About the silver needle, too?" he pressed gently.
"No. Not that. I never knew too much about the overall picture; only the one part."
The tension was too great. Dane could stand it no longer. Spasmodically, he gripped Nelva's shoulders. "Then tell me what you do know, damn it! Who am I? How did I get on that asteroid? Why weren't my records in your files?"
"Please, Clark!" Nelva twisted. "I'm going to tell you. I want to. There's no need to hurt me—"
"Sorry, Nelva." Dane let go of her; turned away, ashamed. "It drives me, Nelva. I've got to know. Everything, everything...." He drove his clenched fist savagely into the palm of the other hand.
"I understand, Clark." The girl's hand was on his shoulder now. "You see—"
The carrier hit something, with an impact that threw them both, sprawling, to the floor.
Dane braced himself for further shocks. When they didn't come, he scrambled up; helped Nelva to her feet.
Before they could more than right themselves, however, the entrance hatch opened. An unfamiliar atmosphere rushed in, strangely scented yet breathable.
Raw-nerved, Dane stumbled to the open door and looked out.