But the medman had straightened. He was not listening. "Another shot for this lad," he clipped briskly. "Make it equal parts of vorghon and anhalsax."
"Right, sir," the second medman nodded. Boone glimpsed an aerojet descending.
Then he was off again—off on another nightmare chase, following Eileen through sifting spheres of light and darkness.
This time, at last, he caught her. Only when he would have put his arms about her, she suddenly changed into a faceless, somehow leering Helgae.
But the haze was gone when he roused again, and he felt better.
Then the medmen came in, looking not quite so jovial as before. A frozen-faced ship's officer entered with them.
There was the usual routine check. At its conclusion, the medman in charge turned to the officer. "All right. You can talk to him now." He stepped back.
The officer moved in closer. "Your name's Fred Boone, EB rating, attached to the Ganymedan base." He said it as if it were an accusation.
"That's right."