Deety suddenly came out from behind me, moved quickly and placed herself beside her father. "Where's your search warrant? Show your authority!" She had the cape clutched around her; her face quivered with indignation.

"Another joker!" This clown snapped open his holster. "Federal land-here's my authority!"

Deety suddenly dropped the cape, stood naked in front of him. I drew, lunged, and cut down in one motion-slashed the wrist, recovered, thrust upward from low line into the belly above the gun belt.

As my point entered, Jake's saber cut the side of the neck almost to decapitation. Our target collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, lay by the pool, bleeding at three wounds.

"Zebadiah, I'm sorry!"

"About what, Princess?" I asked as I wiped my blade on the alleged ranger's uniform. I noticed the color of the blood with distaste.

"He didn't react! I thought my strip act would give you more time."

"You did distract him," I reassured her. "He watched you and didn't watch me. Jake, what kind of a creature has bluish green blood?"

"I don't know."

Sharpie came forward, squatted down, dabbed a finger in the blood, sniffed it. "Hemocyanin. I think," she said calmly. "Deety, you were right. Alien. The largest terrestrial fauna with that method of oxygen transport is a lobster. But this thing is no lobster, it's a 'Black Hat.' How did you know?"

"I didn't. But he didn't sound right. Rangers are polite. And they never fuss about showing their I.D.'s."

"I didn't know," I admitted. "I wasn't suspicious, just annoyed."

"You moved mighty fast," Jake approved.

"I never know why till it's over. You didn't waste time yourself, tovarishch. Drawing saber while he was pulling a gun-that takes guts and speed. But let's not talk now-where are his pals? We may be picked off getting back to the house."

"Look at his pants," Hilda suggested. "He hasn't been on horseback. Hasn't climbed far, either. Jacob, is there a jeep trail?"

"No. This isn't accessible by jeep-just barely by horse."

"Hasn't been anything overhead," I added. "No chopper, no air car."

"Continua craft," said Deety.

"Huh?"

"Zebadiah, the 'Black Hats' are aliens who don't want Pop to build a timespace machine. We know that. So it follows that they have continua craft.

I thouaht about it. "Deety. I'm going to bring you breakfast in bed. Jake, how do we spot an alien continua craft? It doesn't have to look like Gay Deceiver."

Jake frowned. "No. Any shape. But a one-passenger craft might not be much larger than a phone booth."

"If it's a one-man-one-alien-job, it should be parked down in that scrub," I said, pointing. "We can find it."

"Zebadiah," protested Deety, "we don't have time to search. We ought to get out of here! Fast!"

Jake said, "My daughter is right but not for that reason. Its craft is not necessarily waiting. It could be parked an infinitesimal interval away along any of six axes, and either return automatically, preprogrammed, or by some method of signaling that we can postulate but not describe. The alien craft would not be here-now... but will be here-later. For pickup."

"In that case, Jake, you and I and the gals should scram out of here-now to there-then. Be missing. How long has our pressure test been running? What time is it?"

"Seventeen-seventeen," Deety answered instantly.

I looked at my wife. "Naked as a frog. Where do you hide your watch, dearest? Surely, not there."

She stuck out her tongue. "Smarty. I have a clock in my head. I never mention it because people give me funny looks."

"Deety does have innate time sense," agreed her father, "accurate to thirteen seconds plus or minus about four seconds; I've measured it."

"I'm sorry, Zebadiah-I don't mean to be a freak."

"Sorry about what, Princess? I'm impressed. What do you do about time zones?"

"Same as you do. Add or subtract as necessary. Darling, everyone has a built-in circadian. Mine is merely more nearly exact than most people's. Like having absolute pitch-some do, some don't."

"Are you a lightning calculator?"

"Yes... but computers are so much faster that I no longer do it much. Except one thing- I can sense a glitch-spot a wrong answer. Then I look for garbage in the program. If I don't find it, I send for a hardware specialist. Look, sweetheart, discuss my oddities later. Pop, let's dump that thing down the septic tank and go. I'm nervous, I am."

"Not so fast, Deety." Hilda was still squatting by the corpse. "Zebbie. Consult your hunches. Are we in danger?"

"Well... not this instant."

"Good. I want to dissect this creature."

"Aunt Hilda!"

"Take a Miltown, Deety. Gentlemen, the Bible or somebody said, 'Know thy enemy.' This is the only 'Black Hat' we've seen... and he's not human and not born on earth. There is a wealth of knowledge lying here and it ought not to be shoved down a septic tank until we know more about it. Jacob, feel this."

Hilda's husband got down on his knees, let her guide his hand through the "ranger's" hair. "Feel those bumps, dearest?"

"Yes!"

"Much like the budding horns of a lamb, are they not?"

"Oh- 'And I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth; and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon'!"

I squatted down, felt for horn buds. "Be damned! He did come up out of the earth-up this slope anyhow-and he spake as a dragon. Talked unfriendly, and all the dragons I've ever heard of talked mean or belched fire. Hilda, when you field-strip this critter, keep an eye out for the Number of the Beast."

"I shall! Who's going to help me get this specimen up to the house? I want three volunteers."

Deety gave a deep sigh, "I volunteer. Aunt Hilda....ust you do this?"

"Deety, it ought to be done at Johns Hopkins, with x-ray and proper tools and color holovision. But I'm the best biologist for it because I'm the only biologist. Honey child, you don't have to watch. Aunt Sharpie has helped in an emergency room after a five-car crash; to me, blood is just a mess to clean up. Green blood doesn't bother me even that much."

Deety gulped. "I'll help carry. I said I would!"

"Dejah Thoris!"

"Sir? Yes, my Captain?"

"Back away from that. Take this. And this." I unbuckled sword and belt, shoved down my swimming briefs, handed all of it to Deety. "Jake, help me get him up into fireman's carry."

"I'll help carry, Son."

"No, I can tote him easier than two could. Sharpie, where do you want to work?"

"It will have to be the dining table."

"Aunt Hilda, I don't want that thing on my-! I beg your pardon; it's your dining table."

"You're forgiven only if you'll concede that it is our dining table. Deety, how many times must I repeat that I am not crowding you out of your home? We are co-housewives-my only seniority lies in being twenty years older. To my regret."

"Hilda my dear one, what would you say to a workbench in the garage with a drop cloth on it and flood lights over it?"

"I say, 'Swell!' I don't think a dining table is the place for a dissection, either. But I couldn't think of anywhere else."

With help from Jake, I got that damned carcass draped across my shoulders in fireman's carry. Deety started up the path with me, carrying my belt and sword and my briefs in one arm so that she could hold my free hand-despite my warning that she might be splashed with alien blood. "No, Zebadiah, I got overtaken by childishness. I won't let it happen again. I must conquer all squeamishness-I'll be changing diapers soon." She was silent a moment. "That is the first time I've seen death. In a person, I mean. An alien humanoid person I should say... but I thought he was a man. I once saw a puppy run over-I threw up. Even though it was not my puppy and I didn't go close." She added, "An adult should face up to death, should she not?"