"Mia," he said serious all at once, "if Bemmelman—er—disposes of me, you'll have to contact my man yourself. I told you I had a spy planted in his household. His name is Penang-ihtok."
She looked suddenly startled.
"He's a Venusian, an outcast Fozoql. You can recognize him by the blue star tattooed on his forehead. Tell him that my orders are to have the men raid Bemmelman's plantation and carry you to Venusport."
"Penang-ihtok," she repeated.
"Of course," he added dryly; "I'm hopeful Bemmelman won't kill me right off, and I can contact Penang-ihtok myself. In which case, you won't need to bother your pretty head about it."
He yawned, stretched out as comfortably as he could arrange himself in their confined quarters, closed his eyes.
"You're not going to sleep," exploded Mia in alarm.
"Certainly. Nothing else to do." He patted his shoulder. "Make yourself comfortable."
She eyed him with suspicion.
"Go ahead. I haven't any designs on you," he said dryly.