"Tell me your price," she said quickly, as if in haste to get words out before either could think too much. "I will pay—now."
Shabby bargaining, he thought. But he would call her bluff and force her to back down. "Not money," he said savagely. "I don't kill for money. For a woman, yes. I want you."
He expected anger, scorn, even hatred. She gasped and her face went pale and hard. Wilting under his glare, she nodded.
"Yes, even that—if you wish. I have no choice."
Newlin felt sick, empty. He no longer desired her, even if she were willing. He despised her and himself. But a bargain was still a bargain. He shrugged.
Like an outsize toy, a child's model of a spaceship, the oddly graceful structure towered upward into arching darkness. Like her, it was slender, radiant, beautiful. Bitterly, he caught the girl, dragged her to him, felt her flesh yielding to him. She leaned and met his lips with hers. The kiss was cold and ugly as writhing snakes. Cold. Ugly. Alien....
The key went in smoothly, did not turn. It must have been impregnated with magnetism. Somewhere electronic relays clicked switches faintly. The door was open, its movement indescribable in familiar terms. It neither slid, nor swung on hinges. There was no door, much as if a light had switched off.
A rush of air came out. It had the high, sharp tang of ozone, and something unfamiliar.
Newlin stood inside what was obviously an airlock valve. A door inside had opened soundlessly.