Soriki settled deeper in his seat. "He doesn't have to tell me to brake jets," he muttered. "I like it here—"
Raf did not need to echo that. He had a strong surmise that had he been tempted to roam away from the flitter the move would not have been encouraged by the alien guardsmen. If this was their treasure city, they would not welcome any independent investigation by strangers.
When the captain joined them, he was accompanied by the officer who had first shown Raf the globe. And the warrior was either disturbed or angry, for he was talking in a steady stream and his hands were whirling in explanatory gestures.
"They didn't like that flare," Hobart remarked. But there was no reproof in his words. As a spacer pilot he knew that Raf had only done what duty demanded. "We're to remain here—for the night."
"Where's Lablet?" Soriki wanted to know.
"He's staying with Yussoz, the alien commander. He thinks he has the language problem about solved."
"Good enough." Soriki pulled out his bed roll. "We're out of touch with the ship—"
There was a second of silence, unduly prolonged it seemed to Raf. Then Hobart spoke:
"We couldn't expect to keep in call forever. The best com has its range. When did you lose contact?"
"Just before these wrapped-up heroes played with fire back there. I gave the boys all I knew up until then. They know we were headed west, and they had us beamed as long as they could."