"A little rest and when you wake it will
all be a bad dream." He carefully beamed each man into slumber and helped
Dane strip off their bonds. But before he left the room he placed on the
recorder the voucher for the supplies they had taken. The Queen was not
stealing--under the law she still had some shadow of rights.
Suited they crossed the rough rock to the ship. And there about the fins,
already frozen into brittle spikes was a tangle of plants--the rich
result of years of collecting.
"Did you find anything?" Dane asked as they rounded that mess on their
way to the ladder.
Rip's voice came back through the helmet com. "Nothing we know how to
interpret. I wish Frank or Craig had had a chance to check. We took
tri-dees of everything before we dumped. Maybe they can learn something
from these when--"
His voice trailed off leaving that "when" to ring in both their minds. It
was such an important "when." When _would_ either the steward or the
Medic recover enough to view those tri-dee shots? Or was that "when"
really an ominous "if?"
Back in the Queen, sealed once more for blast-off, they took their
stations.
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