The medic arose to his feet and smiled politely at the visitor.
"Do I detect in that observation, sir, the suggestion that the tales I
have heard were deliberately set to blast where they would do the most
good as deterrents?"
A fleeting grin broke the impassive somberness of the black face.
"I was informed you are a man skilled in 'magic,' Medic. You certainly
display the traditional sorcerer's quickness of wit. But this rumor is
also truth." The quirk of good humor had gone again, and there was an
edge in the Chief Ranger's voice which cut. "Poachers on Khatka would
welcome the Patrol in place of the attention they now receive."
He came into the mess cabin, Jellico behind him, and Dane pulled down
two of the snap seats. He was holding a mug under the spout of the
coffee dispenser as the captain made introductions.
"Thorson--our acting-cargo-master."
"Thorson," the Khatkan acknowledged with a grave nod of his head, and
then glanced down to floor level with a look of surprise. Weaving a
pattern about his legs, purring loudly, Sindbad was offering an
unusually fervent welcome of his own.
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