Mallory sat up, too. "Forgive you for what? Go open a couple of vacuum tins while I get into my armor—I'm going to bring this caper to a close."
"Thy ... thy strength has returned?"
"I never felt better in my life."
In the rec-hall he said, sitting down at the table before one of the two vacuum tins she had opened, "You never did ask me what happened."
"Ye will tell me of thy own will an ye wish me to know."
Mallory took a mouthful of simulsteak, chewed and swallowed. "Your Sir Launcelot turned out to be a phony, and pulled a rabbit out of his helmet the nature of which I'd better not try to describe to you."
Eyes round as plums, she regarded him across the table. "A ... a phony, fair sir?"
Mallory nodded. "That's a sort of felon paynim who plays golp."
"But with my own eyes I did see his armor, fair knight."
"That's right—you saw his armor. But you didn't see him. A certain character by the name of Perfidion was residing behind that hardware—not the good Sir Launcelot."