Tau, between visits to them, worked feverishly in his tiny lab, analyzing
blood samples, reading the records of obscure diseases, trying to find
the reason for their attacks. But as yet his discoveries were exactly
nothing. He had come out of his quarters and sat in limp exhaustion at
the mess table while Dane placed before him a mug of stimulating caf-hag.
"I don't get it!" The Medic addressed the table top rather than the
amateur cook. "It's a poison of some kind. Kosti went dirt-side--Mura
didn't. Yet Mura came down with it first. And we didn't ship any food
from Sargol. Neither did he eat any while we were there. Unless he did
and we didn't know about it. If I could just bring him to long enough to
answer a couple of questions!" Sighing he dropped his weary head on his
folded arms and within seconds was asleep.
Dane put the mug back on the heating unit and sat down at the other end
of the table. He did not have the heart to shake Tau into
wakefulness--let the poor devil get a slice of bunk time, he certainly
needed it after the fatigues of the past four days.
Van Rycke passed along the corridor on his way to the hydro, Sinbad at
his heels.
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