Weeks was in charge of the
procession and Dane went to work with the cargo plan Van had left, seeing
that the brilliant scarlet lengths were hoist into the lower cargo hatch
and stacked according to the science of stowage. He discovered that Rip
had been right, the wood for all its incredible hardness was light of
weight. Weak as he still was he could lift and stow a full sized log with
no great difficulty. And he thought Weeks was correct in thinking that it
would sell on their home world. The color was novel, the durability an
asset--it would not make fortunes as the Koros stones might, but every
bit of profit helped and this cargo might cover their fielding fees on
Terra.
Sinbad was in the cargo space when the first of the logs came in. With
his usual curiosity the striped tom cat prowled along the wood, sniffing
industriously. Suddenly he stopped short, spat and backed away, his spine
fur a roughened crest. Having backed as far as the inner door he turned
and slunk out. Puzzled, Dane gave the wood a swift inspection. There were
no cracks or crevices in the smooth surfaces, but as he stopped over the
logs he became conscious of a sharp odor.
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