Lyddy didn't turn from the jeweled dressing table he'd had especially installed for her. "Which one?" she asked.
"Young Raines. Do you know which he is?"
"Yes." She paused. "There's only one young one. Why are you worried about him? Do you think he's sick or something?" But that was the question she should have asked before asking the man's identity.
Mattern let a moment elapse, then said, "His papers appear to be forged."
He glanced at the reflection of her face, but it held neither relief nor fear, merely its usual sweet emptiness. "Maybe he needed a job real bad," she said.
"Maybe," her husband agreed, "but why use forged papers?"
"He might of gotten into some kind of trouble—you know how boys are."
"I'd hardly care to employ the kind of spaceman who gets into trouble serious enough for him to lose his papers. You have to do something pretty drastic to get them taken away, you know."
She said nothing.