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Table of contents
PREFACE
CHAPTER-1-2
CHAPTER-3
CHAPTER-4-5-6-7
CHAPTER-8-9
CHAPTER-10-11
CHAPTER-12-13-14-15
CHAPTER-16-17
CHAPTER-18-19
CHAPTER-20-21-22
CHAPTER-23-24-25
CHAPTER-26-27-28
CHAPTER-29-30
CHAPTER-31.1
CHAPTER-31.2
CHAPTER-31.3
CHAPTER-32
CHAPTER-33
CHAPTER-34-35-36-37-38
CHAPTER-39-40-41-42
CHAPTER-43-44-45
CHAPTER-46-47
CHAPTER-48
CHAPTER-49-50
CHAPTER-51
CHAPTER-52-53
The Sex Life of the Gods. Michael Knerr. CHAPTER-1-2
CHAPTER-3
CHAPTER-4
CHAPTER-5-6
CHAPTER-7-8
CHAPTER-9-10
CHAPTER-11-12
CHAPTER-13-14
CHAPTER-15-16
CHAPTER-17-18

to the lock click into place behind him. 

 

Nolan Brice was seated on the edge of the bed staring at the wall, but 

Lors did not believe that he was in a state of shock. He had the knotted 

jaws of a man who is firmly determined to betray nothing to his captors. 

He sat there with his fingers laced together, hanging between his knees, 

his clothing rumpled and hanging loose from his broad frame. 

 

"Nolan?" 

 

Brice swung his eyes to the Firstspacer, the muscles of his jaws 

working. "I'll kill you," he said, with a horrible softness in his 

voice. 

 

"Nolan. Listen, I'm here to help you." 

 

"You've done a lot of helping, spaceman. I know what you want. Earth." 

 

"Don't be silly. I want to help you and Danson to get back home..." 

 

"I don't need you!" 

 

"Shut up and listen. I'm risking my neck coming in here to help you, so 

you damned well better follow orders. In a minute I'm going to call that 

guard in here, and we're going to borrow his uniform. Then we'll head 

for a scout ship and get you to hell back to Terra. Will that suit 

you?" 

 

"This is some kind of trick..." 

 

"Do you want to go, or stay here," Lors demanded coldly. "I don't have 

time to lecture you. I'll leave that up to your friend, Danson." 

 

"Play it your way, spaceman," Brice said tightly. 

 

"Okay." Lors stood up and spoke through the door to the guard, pulling 

his auto-pistol from the holster. "Come in here, spacer!" 

 

The guard shoved the door open and came in. "What is it, Firstspacer?" 

 

"Him." 

 

The guard swung to look at Brice and, as his head turned, Lors brought 

the butt of the pistol down hard. The guard grunted and dropped heavily 

to the floor, his auto-rifle falling with a loud thud. By now, if 

everything was working out right, Danson should be on his way to the 

scout ship hangar. Lors looked at Brice. 

 

"Come on, Nolan. Get into these clothes!" 

 

Between the two of them, the stripping of the guard was fast. In a few 

minutes, Brice was wearing the spacer's blue uniform and was buckling 

the black cartridge belt about his waist. He gripped the auto-rifle in 

his hands eagerly and looked at Lors. 

 

"Hand me his helmet," he said. 

 

Lors picked it up and straightened to hand it to the Terran. Lors saw 

the punch coming, but surprise prevented him from making any move in his 

defense. Nolan Brice's fist smashed into the side of his face with 

stunning shock and he flew backwards onto the bed. 

 

"Thanks," he heard Brice snarl. 

 

Lors rolled off the bed and onto the floor, the force of the punch 

making his head reel. He heard the door to the room close and the sound 

of Brice's running feet outside as he staggered to his feet. You damned 

fool, he thought. You can't get off this ship alone! 


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