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Norton, Andre, 1912-2005

"Plague Ship"


"They can't make up their minds," the Engineer-apprentice settled his
shoulders against the wall. "Either we're desperate criminals, or we're
heroes. They're going to let time decide."
"If we're heroes," Dane asked a little querulously, "what are we doing
locked up here? I'd like a few earth-side comforts--beginning with a full
meal--"
"No thumb printing, no psycho testing," Rip mused. "Yes, they haven't put
us through the system yet."
"And we decidedly aren't the forgotten men. Wipe your face, child," Ali
said to Dane, "you're still dribbling."
The Cargo-apprentice smeared his hand across his chin and brought it away
red and sticky. Luckily his teeth remained intact.
"We need Hovan to read them more law," observed Kamil. "You should have
medical attention."
Dane dabbed at his mouth. He didn't need all that solicitude, but he
guessed that Ali was talking for the benefit of those who now kept them
under surveillance.
"Speaking of Hovan--I wonder what became of that pest he was supposed to
have under control. He didn't bring the cage with him when he came out of
the Tower, did he?" asked Rip.


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