"You will march ahead of me," Dane's low voice was steady. "Beyond that rock spur to the left you'll find a place where it is possible to climb down to sea level. Do it!"
"I suppose I shouldn't ask why?"
"Not now. We haven't much time. Get moving!"
The Medic mastered his surprise and without further protest obeyed orders. It was only when they were standing by the flitter and he saw the suits that his eyes widened and he said:
"Yes, and I'm desperate—"
"You must be—or mad—" The Medic stared at Dane for a long moment and then shook his head. "What is it? A plague ship?"
Dane bit his lip. The other was too astute. But he did not ask why or how he had been able to guess so shrewdly. Instead he gestured to the suit Ali had lashed beneath the seat in the flitter. "Get into that and be quick about it!"
The Medic rubbed his hand across his jaw. "I think that you might just be desperate enough to use that thing you're brandishing about so melodramatically if I don't," he remarked in a calmly conversational tone.
"I won't kill. But a blaster burn—"