His face hardened grimly. "Five G's," he said shortly.
Doubt flickered for an instant across Graysen's face as he glanced at the girl. Then he shrugged and turned away to comply with the order.
Silently Glayne took Niala Chodred's arm and descended to the next deck. As the first traces of a floor appeared under their feet, he opened the door to Graysen's quarters. It was furnished with the Spartan simplicity of a typical warrior. Trophies and a few rather gruesome battle prints decorated the bulkheads. Niala examined the room curiously but preserved a hurt silence.
He showed her the acceleration hammocks and how to use the anti-thrust drugs in their small surettes.
"If you need me," he said, "I will be in the cabin at the end of the corridor."
She looked at him with mock surprise. "What? No connecting door? Really, Captain, you've shattered all my girlish illusions about the Stellar Guardians."
Glayne paused, his hand on the door stud. He turned around and said, "I want to wake up tomorrow without suffering an accident with a Cardy gun." He closed the door behind him.
By the time he reached the navigation bridge again, the Algol had built up to five G's. To Glayne, accustomed to the heavy Dorleb planets, this was a little more than twice normal.
Young Brodis, the ship's Intelligence Officer, approached him and saluted. "I beg your pardon, sir. Communications just handed these over to me—I thought you might be interested." He extended a sheaf of flimsies to Glayne.
The big Guardian examined them, eyes narrowed. They were transcripts of an official Lorle news bulletin. Rapidly he read: