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"Co-op hospital." That was all right. They always sent in their patient lists to the Times. Tom was griping because he'd have to do Devis's work and his own. "You know anything about engines, Walt?" he asked me.
Or he might have built up some kind of immunity, with antibodies that were themselves harmful if he didn't have alcohol to neutralize them. The fugitive from what I couldn't bring myself to call justice proved to know just a little, but not much, more about engines than I did. That meant that Tom would still have to take Al Devis's place, and I'd have to take his with the after 50-mm.
"What's he think this is, the First Century Pre-Atomic? Aren't there any lifters on the ship?" Llewellyn shrugged. "Probably didn't want to bother taking a couple of steps to get one. The doctor told him to take treatment and observation for a day or so." "That's Al Devis?" I asked. "What hospital?" Al Devis's strained back would be good for a two-line item; he'd feel hurt if we didn't mention it.
I guess he stayed on this side. After they started blowing it, I was over on Al Devis's side." He whistled softly. "Was that a mess!" There was still a crowd at the fire, but they seemed all to be townspeople. The hunters had gathered where Joe Kivelson had been directing operations. We finished our sandwiches and went over to join them.
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