"Where's the crew?" Rikert asked.
"You three are the crew. Beyond that there's just me—and Captain Landreth." Again Curt had the feeling that Jeffers was secretly amused. He ushered them into a compartment near the control-room.
Curt stood quite still for a moment, staring around. The room was a dream. Magnificent tapestries, interwoven with kra plumes, covered the walls. Beneath his feet an imperial Martian rug was a splash of vari-colored splendor. He saw furniture of extinct jragua wood, inlaid with mosaics of semi-precious stones.
Then Curt's eyes widened, as he gazed across the room and saw the person who rose to greet them.
She was tall, for a girl. Auburn hair brushed smoothly back from her forehead fell in waves to the shoulders of a close-fitting uniform. Her eyes were blue but unsmiling, her lips smiled thinly but didn't mean it.
"I am Lorine Landreth," she said without emotion. "If you must be amazed, please do it quickly. We have work to do!"
Curt was beyond being amazed. Thoughtfully his gaze took in her trim figure, the pale but determined face, the electro held loosely in a belt at her waist. She gave the impression of knowing how to use it.
"Captain Landreth, I presume." Curt's voice was serious. "George Landreth's daughter?"
"Correct! On both counts." She turned to Jeffers. "You made it clear that their status is not altered by their being here?"