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PAGE 5

Priestess of the Flame
by [?]

“I think you’re right, sir,” said Hendricks quickly. “I believe she should be given every consideration.”

* * * * *

Kincaide, my level-headed second officer, glanced curiously at Hendricks. “I see she’s made one friend, anyway,” he said. “Don’t let yourself slip, my boy; I’ve run across her kind before. They’re dangerous.”

“Thanks, but the warning’s not necessary, Mr. Kincaide,” replied Hendricks stiffly, an angry flush mounting to his checks. “I merely expressed a requested opinion.”

“We’ll let that phase of it drop, gentlemen,” I cut in sharply, as I saw Kincaide’s eyes flash. Trust a woman to stir up strife and ill-feeling! “What shall we do with her?”

“I believe, sir,” said Correy, “that we’d be nice to her. Treat her as an honored guest; make the best of a bad situation. If she’s what the Chief thought she is, the boss of this outfit we’ve got to lick, then there’s no need of stroking her the wrong way, as I see it.”

“And you, Mr. Kincaid?”

“I see no other way out of it. Under the circumstances, we can’t treat her like a common culprit; both her position and her sex would prevent.”

“Very well, then; we seem to be agreed. We’ll find suitable quarters for her–“

“I’ll give her mine,” put in Hendricks. “Correy will let me double up with him, I imagine.”

“Sure,” nodded Correy.

Kincaide glanced sharply at Hendricks, but said nothing. I knew, however, that he was thinking just what I was: that my young third officer was in for a bad, bad time of it.

Just how bad, I think neither of us guessed.

* * * * *

Liane became a member of the officers’ mess on the Ertak. She occupied Hendricks’ stateroom, and, I must confess, with uncommon good judgment for a woman, remained there most of the time.

She knew the reason for our mission, but this was one subject we never discussed. Nor did we mention the sect of which, according to the Chief of Command, she was the head. We did talk freely, when brought together at the table, on every other general topic.

Liane was an exceedingly intelligent conversationalist. Her voice was fascinating, and her remarks were always to the point. And she was a very good listener; she paid flattering attention to the most casual remark.

It seemed to me she was particularly gracious to Hendricks. Her strangely arresting blue eyes seldom left his face when he was speaking, and the greater portion of her remarks seemed addressed to him. Naturally, Hendricks responded as a flower responds to the warming rays of the sun.

“We’ll do well, sir, to keep a weather eye on the youngster,” opined Correy one morning. (I think I have previously explained that even in the unchanging darkness of space, we divided time arbitrarily into days and nights). “Unless I’m badly mistaken, Hendricks is falling victim to a pair of blue eyes.”

“He’s young,” I shrugged. “We’ll be there in two more days, and then we’ll be rid of her.”

“Yes,” nodded Correy, “we’ll be there in a couple of days. And we’ll be rid of her, I hope. But–suppose it should be serious, sir?”

“What do you mean?” I asked sharply. I had been thinking, rather vaguely, along much the same lines, but to hear it put into words came as rather a shock.

“I hope I’m wrong,” said Correy very gravely. “But this Liane is an unusual woman. When I was his age, I could have slipped rather badly myself. Her eyes–that slow smile–they do things to a man.

“At the same time, Liane is supposed to be the head of the thing we’re to stamp out; you might say the enemy’s leader. And it wouldn’t be a good thing, sir, to have a–a friend of the enemy on board the Ertak, would it?”