And yet the wilderness
flourished and beckoned.
"Mutations--" Rip mused. "Space, Tau'd go wild if he could see it!"
And that mention of the Medic brought them back to the problem which had
earthed them. Dane leaned back against the slanting wall of the cabin.
"We have to have a Medic--"
Rip nodded without looking away from the screen.
"Can one of the flitters be shielded?" The Cargo-apprentice persisted.
"That's a thought! Ali should know--" Rip reached for the inter-com mike.
"Engines!"
"So you _are alive_?" Ali's voice had a bite in it. "About time you're
contacting. Where are we? Besides being lopsided from a recruit's
scrambled set-down, I mean."
"In the Big Burn. Come top-side. Wait--how's Weeks?"
"He has a devil's own headache, but he hasn't blacked out yet. Looks like
his immunity holds in part. I've sent him bunkside for a while with a
couple of pain pills. So we've made it--"
He must have left to join them for when Rip answered: "After a fashion,"
into the mike there was no reply.
And the clang of his boot plates on the ladder heralded his arrival at
their post.
Pages:
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227