His unhelmeted head was grizzled,
his coarse, tanned face with heavy jowls bristly enough to suggest he had
not bothered to use smooth-cream for some days. An under officer of some
spacer, retired to finish out the few years before pension in this
nominal duty--fast letting down the standards of personal regime he had
had to maintain on ship board. But he wasn't all fat and soft living,
the glance with which he measured them was shrewdly appraising.
"What's your trouble?" he demanded without greeting. "You didn't I-dent
coming in."
"Coms are out," Rip replied as shortly. "We need E-Hydro--"
"First time I ever heard it that the coms were wired in with the grass,"
the Eysies's hands were on his hips--in close proximity to something
which made Dane's eyes narrow. The fellow was wearing a flare-blaster!
That might be regulation equipment for an E-Stat agent on a lonely
asteroid--but he didn't quite believe it. And probably the other was
quick on the draw too.
"The coms are something else," Rip answered readily. "Our tech is working
on them. But the hydro's bad all though.
Pages:
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180