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"All the time you like," Lerton replied. That was not like the man, Jim Farland knew. Lerton was the sort to try to make himself important, the always-busy man who had no time for anybody less than a millionaire. Farland smiled and sat down in a chair at one end of the desk. He twisted his hat in his hands, looked across at George Lerton, cleared his throat, and spoke.
They took an intraship shuttle to Mess One, intended for senior officers and at this hour quite empty, unlike the always-busy Mess Three. They got their meals and ate silently while Corina decided on her plans. "The first thing, I think," she finally said, "is to find anyone else aboard with mind shields, to make a combat group. "Right," Medart agreed, "since unshielded ones wouldn't last long.
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