And
his words struck his comrade dumb. "Solar Queen?"
"You got the warn-off then?"
"Who didn't? You really have plague on board?" The thought did not appear
to alarm the Com-tech unduly. But his fellow suddenly heaved his bound
body some distance away from the Free Traders and his face displayed
mixed emotions--most of them fearful.
"We have something--probably supplied," Rip straightened. "Might pass
along to your bosses that we know that. Now suppose you tell me about
your relief. When is it due?"
"Not until after we take off on the long orbit if you leave us like this.
On the other hand," the other added coolly, "I don't see how you can do
otherwise. We've still got those--" with his chin he pointed to the
com-unit.
"After a few alterations," Rip amended. The bulk of the com was in a
tightly sealed case which they would need a flamer to open. But he could
and did wreak havoc with the exposed portions. The tech watching this
destruction spouted at least two expressions his companion had not used.
But when Rip finished he was his unruffled self again.
"Now," Rip drew his sleep rod.
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