Esther's eyes betrayed deep torment. "I know. I would do anything to get away from this place."
She put the towels in a rack. The trucker was lying on the bed, contemplating the girl's deft, graceful movements.
"Listen," he said, "why wait for a passenger ship? Why not arrange secretly with one of the cargo ships that stop here? I know if I was inbound—"
"Don't even say it!" she expostulated. "It's very kind of you, but certainly you've heard of the Pledge Act? My father could prosecute any cargo ship, no matter where it landed in the planets. You know, unlicensed transport of people."
She paused to look at herself in a mirror above the washstand. Brack's eyes were on her bare, marble-white shoulders, her finely sculptured bosom. She sighed.
"No, my only chance is to get away from the Dryodean System altogether. If I go to another star—where the Pledge Act wasn't even heard of—"
She brushed back her long blond hair with an unconscious gesture, like a maiden getting out of a degravity pool.
Brack said thoughtfully: "Esther, if you're really determined to get away from here, maybe I can help you. I'm taking a cargo to Hesdin. Your old man couldn't reach you there, or prove anything against me, either."
The girl's moonstone eyes flared up in hope, but she hesitated. "I don't have very much money. I couldn't make it worth your while, financially."
"That part is unimportant. The thing for you to consider is the situation on Hesdin-2. It's a new colony; life there is pretty primitive."