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Updated: July 25, 2025
"Whew out in the open with you !" Ali Kamil apprentice Engineer, screwed his too regular features into an expression of extreme distaste and waved Dane by him in the corridor. For the sake of his shipmates' olfactory nerves, Dane hurried on to the port which gave on the ramp now tying the Queen to Sargol's crust.
Sargol's sun the one which gave such limited light to dead Limbo the sun under which Naxos, his first Galactic port, grew its food. He could not pick them out was not even sure that any could be sighted from Terra. Strange suns, red, orange, blue green, white yet here all looked alike points of glitter. Tomorrow at dawn he must go on.
The small cabin was thickly redolent with spicy odors and Rip sniffed appreciatively. "You're sure going to be about the best smelling Terran who ever set boot on Sargol's soil," his soft slur of speech ended in a rich chuckle. Dane snorted and tried to estimate progress over one shoulder. "The things we have to do for Trade!" his comment carried a hint of present embarrassment.
Though the Cargo-apprentice was sure that Kamil was more alert than his comrades, as if he waited for something he thought was soon to occur. Dane dreamed. Once more he trod the reef rising out of Sargol's shallow sea. But he held no weapon and beneath the surface of the water a gorp lurked.
And it was fairly late in the afternoon before they topped a rise of ground and looked out upon one of Sargol's seas. The water was a dull-metallic gray, broken by great swaths of purple as if an artist had slapped a brush of color across it in a hit or miss fashion.
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