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Norton, Andre, 1912-2005

"Plague Ship"

Only on the main star trails did the huge
liners or Company ships attempt to keep on regularly timed trips. A Free
Trader did not really dare to have an inelastic contract.
"What does Stotz say?" Dane asked Ali.
"He says he can deliver. We don't have the headache about setting a
course--you point the nose and we only give her the boost to send her
along."
Rip sighed. "Yes--point her nose." He inspected his nails. "Goodbye," he
added gravely. "These won't be here by the time we planet here again.
I'll have my fingers gnawed off to the first knuckle. Well, we lift at
six hours. Pleasant strap down." He drank the last of the stuff in his
mug, made a face at the flavor, and got to his feet, due back at his post
in control.
Dane, free of duty until the ship earthed, drifted back to his own cabin,
sure of part of a night's undisturbed rest before they blasted off.
Sinbad was curled on his bunk. For some reason the cat had not been
prowling the ship before take-off as he usually did. First he had sat on
Van's desk and now he was here, almost as if he wanted human company.
Dane picked him up and Sinbad rumbled a purr, arching his head so that it
rubbed against the young man's chin in an extremely uncharacteristic show
of affection.


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