“Answer it,” ordered Kurt, “but watch what you say.”
Krogson walked over and snapped on the screen.
“Communications, sir.”
“Well?”
“It’s that message we called you about earlier. We’ve finally got the decoder working—sort of, that is.” His voice faltered and then stopped.
“What does it say?” demanded Krogson impatiently.
“We still don’t know,” admitted the tech miserably. “It’s being decoded all right, but it’s coming out in a North Vegan dialect that nobody down here can understand. I guess there’s still something wrong with the selector. All that we can figure out is that the message has something to do with General Carr and the Lord Protector.”
“Want me to go down and fix it?” interrupted Kurt in an innocent voice.
Krogson whirled toward him, his hamlike hands clenching and unclenching in impotent rage.
“Anything wrong, sir?” asked the technician on the screen.