"He's just worn out, sir," Dane hastened to give reassurance. "The marks
aren't on him."
"When he comes around tell him the co-ords are in," Jellico murmured.
"See he checks course in ten hours--"
"But, sir--" Dane's protest failed as he watched the Captain struggle to
his feet, pulling himself up with shaking hands. As Thorson reached
forward to steady the other, one of those hands tore at tunic collar,
ripping loose the sealing--
There was no need for explanation--the red splotch signaled from
Jellico's sweating throat. He kept his feet, holding out against the
waves of pain by sheer will power. Then Dane had a grip on him, got him
away from the computer, hoping he could keep him going until they reached
Jellico's cabin.
Somehow they made that journey, being greeted with raucous screams from
the Hoobat. Furiously Dane slapped the cage, setting it to swinging and
so silencing the creature which stared at him with round, malignant eyes
as he got the Captain to bed.
Only four of them on their feet now, Dane thought bleakly as he left the
cabin. If Rip came out of it in time they could land--Dane's breath
caught as he made himself face up to the fact that Shannon might be ill,
that it might be up to him to bring the Queen in for a landing.
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