"I hate him!" she sobbed, nestling against the huge bulk of the base commander's body and turning upon him the full blast of the high-powered projectors which were her eyes. "You wouldn't be so mean to me, I just know you wouldn't!" And her subtly perfumed head sank upon his shoulder. The base commander was just so much soft wax.
"I'll say I wouldn't be mean to you!" his voice dropped to a gentle bellow. "Why, you little sweetheart, I'll marry you. I will, by all the gods of space!"
It thus came about that nurse and base commander entered the control room together, arms about each other.
"There he is!" she shrieked, pointing at the chief communications officer. "He's the one! Now let's see you start something, you rat-faced clunker! There's one real man around here, and he won't let you touch me—ya-a-a!" She gave him a resounding Bronx cheer, and her escort swelled visibly.
"Is—that—so——?" Kinnison sneered. "Get this, baby-face, and get it straight. You were marked as mine as soon as I looked the ship over, and mine you're going to be, whether you like it or not, and no matter what anybody else says or does about it. And as for you, chief, you're too late. I saw her first. And now, you red-headed hussy, come over here where you belong!"
She snuggled closer into the commander's embrace and the big man turned purple.
"What do you mean, too late?" he roared. "You took her away from the ship's captain, didn't you? You said that superior officers get first choice, and they do. I am the boss here and I am taking her away from you. Get me? You'll stand for it, too—yes, and you'll like it. One word out of you and I'll have you spread-eagled across the mouth of No. 6 Projector!"
"Superior officers do not always get first choice," Kinnison replied, with bitter, cold ferocity, but choosing his words with care. "It depends entirely upon who the two men are."
Now was the time to strike. Kinnison knew that if the base commander kept his head, the lives of those valiant women were forfeit, and the Lensman's whole plan seriously endangered. He himself could get away, of course—but he could not see himself doing it under these conditions. No, he must goad the commander to a frenzy. Mac would help. In fact, and without his suggestion, she was even then hard at work fomenting trouble between the two men.
"You don't have to take that from anybody, big boy," she was whispering, urgently. "Don't call in a crew to spread-eagle him, either; beam him out yourself. You're a better man than he is, any time. Blast him down. That'll show him who's who around this base!"