"You realize, of course," Teejay told him calmly, "that this is kidnapping."
"Is it? Who is to say? You never entered the Gordak; LeClarc met you within the airlock. For all your crew knows, the three of you are out on Ganymede somewhere—with not much air left. After a time, they'll have to give you up as dead. With the Captain gone, and the Exec, and the expert on Extra-terrestrial zoology—their expedition won't amount to much. It looks to me like old man Carmical will be without a circus this year, unless he resorts to a strictly terrestrial shindig."
"What happens then?" Teejay wanted to know.
"Well, I'll be frank with you. I haven't decided. I can't simply return you to civilization, of course."
"Of course," Teejay echoed him acidly.
"Then you'd be able to holler 'kidnapper'. It would seem that you give me only one alternative. Ah—excuse me a moment."
A trio of men had entered the lounge and the leader, a stocky man of about thirty-five, was beaming. "We've got three," he said.
"Splendid, splendid. In that case, nothing remains to keep us on Ganymede."
"Chief, I'm sure glad of that. This place can give you the heebies, and you never know why. Those three anthrovacs should be a fine core to build your circus around, though."
"Three anthrovacs?" Teejay cried, her composure fading for the first time. "You've got three anthrovacs?"