The texture of Ann's skin suddenly felt rough under his hand, prickling with cold. "You're cold," he murmured. He started to smile. "Or is it—?"
He paused. A draft touched his body like cool fingers. But the air curtains shut out cold. And the door ...
He twisted away from Ann, rolling toward the edge of the bed. He was too late. Heavy hands caught his legs. An arm encircled his neck tightly. As he struggled to break free someone fumbled at the left sleeve of his coverall, rolling it up. The technique was practiced, deft, quick. He felt the prick of the needle, but there was little pain.
"Release him!" a voice spoke. There was amusement in the voice, a controlled, urbane mockery.
"You!" Hendley stumbled to his feet. There were three men in the room. Two were strangers to him, including the one slipping a hypodermic needle into a small case. Recognition of the third man stung him to incredulous anger. "How did you get here?"
Nik laughed. "I haven't lived in this camp all my life without learning a few of the ropes."
"Is this your idea of pleasure-pure? Get out!"
But Nik made no move. "Sorry, old boy. I wish it didn't have to be you. But you'll get to like it here." He glanced past Hendley at Ann on the bed, whose frightened eyes were on Hendley. "Too bad I had to come at the wrong moment. I thought I'd given you time for a few jolts. Seemed like the fair thing to do. But this gentleman"—he nodded toward one of the men standing behind him—"really was the winner. I promised him we wouldn't tie up his prize all night."
"But you said—you bought him off!"
"Now, now, mustn't get excited. It'll only make the drug work more quickly. I did have to stretch the truth a bit, but you'll understand why."