--"

"_Out!_" Jason roared, and spun Mikah about and started him through
the door with one of his practiced Ch'aka kicks. "The only evil here
is in your mind, you snooping scut. I'm giving the girl the first
scrubbing of her life and you should be giving me a medal for bringing
sanitation to the natives instead of howling like that." He pushed
them both out the door and shouted at Narsisi. "I wanted this slave,
but not _now_! Lock him up until morning then bring him back." He
slammed the door and made a mental note to get hold of a bolt to be
placed on this side as well.

* * * * *

There were more _krenoj_ for breakfast but Jason was feeling too good
physically to mind. He was scrubbed raw and clean and the itching was
gone even from his sprouting beard. The metalcloth of his Pyrran
coverall had dried almost as soon as it had been washed so he was
wearing clean clothes as well. Ijale was still recovering from the
traumatic effects of her bath, but she looked positively attractive
with her skin cleaned and her hair washed and combed a bit. He would
have to find some of the local cloth for her since it would be a shame
to ruin the good work by letting her get back into the badly cured
skins she was used to wearing. It was with a sensation of positive
good feeling that he bellowed for the door to be opened and stamped
through the cool morning to his place of labor. Mikah was already
there, looking scruffy and angry as he rattled his chains; Jason gave
him the friendliest of smiles that only rubbed salt into the other's
moral wounds.

"Leg-irons for him, too," Jason ordered, "And do it fast. We have a
big job to do today." He turned back to the sealed engine, rubbing his
hands together with anticipation.

The concealing hood was made of thin metal that could not hide many
secrets. He carefully scratched away some of the paint and discovered
a crimped and soldered joint where the sides met, but no other
revealing marks. After an hour spent tapping all over with his ear
pressed to the metal he was sure that the hood was just what he had
thought it was when he first examined the thing--a double-walled metal
container filled with liquid. Puncture it and you were dead. It was
there merely to hide the secrets of the engine, and served no other
function. Yet it had to be passed to service the steam engine--or did
it? The construction was roughly cubical, and the hood covered only
five sides.