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Table of contents
CONTENTS
LESSON-1-2
LESSON-3
LESSON-4.1
LESSON-4.2
LESSON-5.1
LESSON-5.2
LESSON-6.1
LESSON-6.2
LESSON-7.1
LESSON-7.2
LESSON-7.3
LESSON-8
LESSON-9
LESSON-10.1
LESSON-10.2
LESSON-11
LESSON-12
LESSON-13.1
LESSON-13.2
LESSON-14
LESSON-15.1
LESSON-15.2
Contraception
The Sex Life of the Gods. Michael Knerr. CHAPTER-1
CHAPTER-2-3
CHAPTER-4
CHAPTER-5-6
CHAPTER-7-8
CHAPTER-9-10
CHAPTER-11-12
CHAPTER-13-14
CHAPTER-15-16
CHAPTER-17-18-19

 

* * * * * 

 

Later, dressed in the uniform of a Firstspacer, Lors checked himself in 

the mirror of the bedroom making certain that he was properly dressed. 

Trousers bloused neatly into the black, half boots, the yellow stripes 

perfectly aligned, the cuffs of the tunic fastened at his wrists and 

throat, the emblems of the 8th. Terran Command on the collar, the patch 

of rank on his left shoulder sleeve. Yes, he was all set. Precise. 

 

He grinned at Thesa. "Feels good," he said. 

 

The sandy haired spacer handed him the black leather belt containing the 

auto-pistol and the cartridge belt. He buckled it on, feeling the 

familiar weight drag at his right hip. 

 

"Okay?" Thesa asked. 

 

Lors nodded. "Thanks for the loan," he said and went out to where Narvi, 

already dressed, awaited him. 

 

"How's your head?" Narvi asked. 

 

"Fine." 

 

"Let's go, then." 

 

They walked, wordlessly, out to the barn. The blond snapped on a small 

light near the scout ship and Lors went up close to examine it. 

 

"Climb in," Narvi invited. "I have to scan the area and make sure no one 

will see the take-off." 

 

Lors leaped to the cockpit and opened the plastic-dome; he dropped 

lithely into the seat, his feet moving automatically to the rudder 

pedals, his hands impatiently fingering the controls. So much was coming 

back. So many remembrances with each second of time. He was _not_ 

Nicholas Howard Danson, and he had never been! He was Firstspacer Lors 

of the 8th. Terran Command, and he felt his heart thrill to the 

knowledge of who he was and where he was. It was slow, this strange 

process of regaining his mind, but it was coming along. He would soon be 

whole again, no longer some freak caught in the vortex between two 

worlds. 

 

"Ready?" Narvi asked, slipping into the seat beside him and pulling the 

cockpit shield into place. 

 

"Ready. Where's the starship?" 

 

"Bearing 204.5, off-planet. We'll be there in no time." 

 

The barn door swung open as Narvi started the scout ship and they moved 

out into the night, hovering a foot off the barn floor until they were 

outside. 

 

Narvi conned the ship, working the verti-control expertly and the 

little craft whistled upward at a gentle speed. The radar screen before 

them disclosed no aircraft in the area. Narvi grinned at Lors and shoved 

the speed control forward, working the elevators with his other hand and 

the scout ship streaked into the night sky. 

 

Home. 

 

Lors, watching the screen, saw the oblong shape of the mother ship blurp 

into view and called out its position to his friend. At once, Narvi 


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