When someone touched him, his heart jumped and he whirled around.
"What's the matter, Bo?" asked Valeria. "You look like doomsday."
"I ... I...." He gulped noisily and twisted his mouth into a smile. "Just feeling a little off."
"It's more than that, I think." Her eyes were grave. "You've seemed so unhappy the whole trip. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Thanks ... Dr. McKittrick ... but—"
"Don't be so formal," she said, almost wistfully. "I don't bite. Too many men think I do. Can't we be friends?"
"With a thick-headed clinker like me?" His whisper was raw.
"Don't be silly. It takes brains to be a spaceman. I like a man who knows when to be quiet." She lowered her eyes, the lashes were long and sooty black. "There's something solid about you, something so few people seem to have these days. I wish you wouldn't go feeling so inferior."
At any other time it would have been a sunburst in him. Now he thought of death, and mumbled something and looked away. A hurt expression crossed her face. "I won't bother you," she said gently, and moved off.
The thing was to fall on Lundgard while he slept—