"Maybe where Wrightwood is concerned," suggested Morehouse.
"Lord knows I have no love for William Wrightwood," said Steve soberly, "and I want to strike back at him. But no man knows better than I do that the way to clip Wrightwood is to wrest some of his power from him or to go ahead and do that which he deemed impossible."
"He is right," said Lois.
Morehouse swivelled around and looked at her. "Lois, are you in love with him?"
"I might be. Eventually I may be. Now, I don't know him well enough. But—"
"You're talking in a circle."
"—but I will say this: I will be a very happy woman if Steve Hagen turns out to be a right guy."
Morehouse looked at her silently; Steve took a deep breath; Charlemagne stared at the ceiling. In the silence the computer behind the alarm screen clicked code; none of them had to turn to look at the galactic sector. They knew it was a distant base responding to a distant alarm, two or three hundred light years across the galaxy.
Morehouse eyed Steve, then. "Hagen, we can't take chances on you."