book indicated she trusted him.

Lusine said, "Now what, Jean-Jacques? Are you still going to abandon
this planet?"

"Of course," he snapped.

"Will you take me with you?"

He had spent most of his life under the tutelage of his Skin, which
ensured that others would know when he was lying. It did not come easy
to hide his true feelings. So a habit of a lifetime won out.

"I will not take you," he said. "In the first place, though you may
have some admirable virtues, I've failed to detect one. In the second
place, I could not stand your blood-drinking nor your murderous and
totally immoral ways."

"But, Jean-Jacques, I will give them up for you!"

"Can the shark stop eating fish?"

"You would leave Lusine, who loves you as no Earthwoman could, and go
with that--that pale little doll I could break with my hands?"

"Be quiet," he said. "I have dreamed of this moment all my life.
Nothing can stop me now."

They were on the wharf beside the bridge that ran up the smooth side
of the starship. The guard was no longer there, though bodies showed
that there had been reluctance on the part of some to leave.

They let the Earthwoman precede them up the bridge.

Lusine suddenly ran ahead of him, crying, "If you won't have me, you
won't have her, either! Nor the stars!"

Her knife sank twice into the Earthwoman's back. Then, before anybody
could reach her, she had leaped off the bridge and into the harbor.

Rastignac knelt beside the Earthwoman. She held out the book to him,
then she died. He caught the volume before it struck the wharf.

"My God! My God!" moaned Rastignac, stunned with grief and shock and
sorrow. Sorrow for the woman and shock at the loss of the ship and the
end of his plans for freedom.

Mapfarity ran up then and took the book from his nerveless hand. "She
indicated that this is a manual for running the ship," he said. "All
is not lost."

"It will be in a language we don't know," Rastignac whispered.

Archambaud came running up, shrilled, "The Amphibs have broken through
and are coming down the street! Let's get to our boat before the whole
blood-thirsty mob gets here!"

Mapfarity paid him no attention. He thumbed through the book, then
reached down and lifted Rastignac from his crouching position by the
corpse.

"There's hope yet, Jean-Jacques," he growled. "This book is printed
with the same characters as those I saw in a book owned by a priest I
knew. He said it was in Hebrew, and that