Nuala said, "I will have to make them, then. You do have a workshop, I know. I read your thoughts as you came toward Nekkalad. Even before that, in Mars Port with Martin Kent."
She went up the metal ladder into the ship. She walked with calm assurance toward the repair room. Travis came after her, wondering, a little rattled. It was odd to see a woman so familiar with his life, with his own inner thoughts. He thought of Jonquilon, the red-headed dancer at Mars Port. Cheeks red, he settled himself on a bench, and watched her.
Nuala was murmuring, "We'll need a speed-up job on your rockets to get them through the Break. And a super-blaster to add to your own space-warper. Hmm ... wires all right. Sheet metal not too strong, but it'll do...."
Her voice droned on. Travis found himself lost in contemplation of her. She looked like any girl you might see in the Chez Saturn or Planetary Park. She might be fussing over a jalanadon steak instead of a space-warper. If it weren't for her eyes ... so blue ... but so filled with that frightening knowledge, with wisdom, she'd make a guy a swell wife. He wondered how she kissed.
"Now you must help me," she said, turning to him. She saw his abrupt change of expression and brooded at him. She shook her head suddenly and held out a small engine rigged with wheels and wires, with armatures and generator. "Attach it to the drive shaft, ahead of the combustion chambers."
She showed him how, and explained its working. Travis didn't get the whole thing, but he understood enough to know that even the Chalmers rockets would be improved with this contraption. It smoothed the blastings of the jets, built them up on their own power. The ship would be like a bullet that, once shot from the gun, would receive another firing every ten feet. It was speed added to speed.
Nuala smiled at his blank look, "Don't bother about whys and wherefors. Just let me handle things."
Travis grumbled under his breath, cramped under the jets and installing the super-blaster. It fretted his male pride to feel that a woman—even such a woman as Nuala—knew more about the workings of his own space-ship than he knew himself.