Matt said, "The lights!" and swung the port shut at the same instant, shooting the bolts.
The woman crouched like an animal. Then the lights came on. Her hair, Matt saw, was red as flame, her eyes green and oblong. She licked her lips.
"Who are you?" Matt asked bluntly. "Why were you prowling around the ship?"
The woman straightened again slowly. "Did you see anything of a man coming this way?"
"Yes. He's in there." Matt nodded toward the messroom. "What did you want with him?"
The woman looked vaguely surprised. "He's mine!" she said. "He ran away!"
Gradually Matt had become aware of a subtle difference that set the woman apart from the others. It was not so much her appearance as the way she carried herself—the set of her head, the level appraising coolness of her green eyes.
Arrogance!
He felt a bristling of hostility. "You've been through the plague?"