Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 10, 2025
To his mind the prisoner was now either in the headquarters of the warriors, where the globe had been berthed, or had been taken to the administration building. Whether he could penetrate either stronghold was a question Raf did not yet face squarely. But the odd something which tugged at him was as persistent as the buzz in his earphones. And an idea came.
He communicated with his companion, the useful earphones chancing to be in place trust Perk for that. "Somethin' doin' out there to the west, partner look up to a higher ceilin' an' you'll see it. Headin' to cross over our trail in the bargain, I guess." "A crate, all right," commented Jack, whose quick eyesight had immediately picked up the moving object.
There was a much longer pause. Then the voice came back, "No, we have no contract. We are all dying, but if you must have a contract to come...." "Not at all," Tiger sent back. "We're coming. Keep your frequency open. We will contact again when we are closer." He tossed down the earphones and looked excitedly at Dal. "Did you hear that? A planet calling for help, with no Hospital Earth contract!"
The crew drifted toward him, and by the time he finished feeding in the coded information, a row three-deep of Lhari surrounded him, including all the officers. Vorongil was right at his shoulder when Bart slipped on his earphones and started decoding the punched strips that fed out the answers from the computer. "Nearest port is Cottman Four. It's almost exactly thirty hours away."
Chief Multhaus, one of the eight, turned his head to look at Mike the Angel. "I wish that thing would close as fast as my eyes are going to in about fifteen minutes, Commander." His voice rumbled deeply in Mike's earphones. "Yeah," said Mike, too tired to make decent conversation.
The Throg leader clicked into his translator: "You call ship!" Shann was thrust down into the operator's chair, his bound arms still twisted behind him so that he had to lean forward to keep on the seat at all. Then the Throg who had pushed him there, roughly forced a set of com earphones and speech mike onto his head. "Call ship!" clicked the alien officer. So time must be running out.
The hookup would be powered by the solar battery in the hydrolung power unit, by connecting wires through the breathing tube. "That's neat, Tom," Bud said. "Need any help?" "You can mold us a pair of new face masks big enough to cover the earphones," Tom suggested.
Following the manager's instructions, Larry took up his position at a short distance from an instrument called a microphone, and at a signal from Mr. Allard commenced his bird imitations. The manager had donned earphones like all the rest, and the little company listened with varying emotions as Larry went through his repertoire.
Soft, slow music began to chant out of the earphones. The insidious fingers of the drug blocked off his senses, one by one. The music diminished, and the words of the hypnotic formula lulled him to sleep. He woke, hearing the lively strains of dance music. For a while, he lay relaxed. Then he snapped off the switch, took out the ear plugs, removed the helmet and rose to his feet.
In the earphones he could hear the sporadic chatter between Greg and the control tower. No hint that this was anything but a routine blastoff.... But there was trouble ahead, Tom was certain of that. Everybody on Mars was aware that Roger Hunter's sons were heading out to the Belt to pick up where he had left off.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking