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The man leaned back against the wall, his face expressionless. "You take a rather tough way of trying to get help." "It was the only way left us. I'll be frank," Rip continued, "we're Patrol Posted." The Medic's shrewd eyes went from one drawn young face to the next. "You don't look like desperate criminals," was his comment. "This your full crew?" "All the rest are your concern.
Suited, he took his place on the seat as Dane directed, and then the Trader followed the additional precaution of lashing the Medic's metal encased arms to his body before he climbed into his own protective covering. Now they could only communicate by sight through the vision plates of their helmets.
His eyes were on those space boots and he added a "sir" which had the ring of hero worship. "Escape boat " Dane waved toward the sea's general direction. "Medic must get to Medic " "Yes, sir," the boy's basic Terran sounded good. "Can you walk if I help you?" Dane managed a weak nod, but contrived that he did not lean too heavily on his avidly helpful guide. "The Medic's my father, sir.
Dane guessed that Lumbrilo sent now against the Terran the harvest of the medic's own memories. He shut his eyes against this enforced intrusion upon another's past, but not before he saw Tau's face, strained, fined to the well-shaped bones beneath the thin flesh, holding still a twisted smile as he met each memory, accepted the pain it held for him, and set it aside unshaken.
And with the Eysies and the Patrol on our necks, we'll need more than one medic's word " But Rip looked from the pessimistic Kamil to Dane. Now he asked a question which was more than half statement. "You've thought of something?" "I've remembered something," the Cargo-apprentice corrected.
They were innocent enough in concept, and sufficiently complex in design to require a great deal of study by these conservative individuals who would never risk a hasty guess as to the consequences of even so simple an action as sneezing at the wrong time. Major Steve Elbertson awoke with a start, to see a medic's eyes inches from his own.
Von Liegnitz grabbed the spanner out of Mellon's hand and swung it toward the medic's jaw. It was only inches away when Keku's hand grasped the navigator's wrist. And when the big Hawaiian's hand clamped on, von Liegnitz' hand stopped almost dead. Mellon was screaming. "You !" He ran out a string of unprintable and almost un-understandable words. "I'll kill you! I'll do it yet!
There was a grim note in the Medic's reply. "And to do that I want to look at their camp." "Well enough!" Asaki crept back in the brush. The ghost of that which was not a man had reached the shore of the island, stood there, its blank head turned toward them.
Hovan's reply changed the medic's expression. He checked the wound, cleaned it, then held the edges together and sprayed it with something cool and gray. The Traiti version of synthiskin, probably, Tarlac thought. Afterwards the medic checked and cleaned Hovan's cut, but didn't bother with any further treatment. It looked half-healed, whether or not it was.
My brother got hold of it, don't ask me how and don't ask him!" "When am I going to see my face?" "When I think you're ready for the shock," Raynor said bluntly. "It almost threw you when I showed you your hands." He made Bart walk around some more briefly, slowly, he unwound the bandages; then turned and picked up a mirror at the bottom of his medic's case, turning it right side up. "Here.
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