Abruptly the itch stopped and Curl was there, looking exhausted, as was the polite fashion, since teleporting oneself was commonly regarded as tiring.
"You've taken nego," the physician murmured aloud, half accusingly.
"Yes sir," Tensor replied, using similar sound patterns. "Ruut ordered me to."
"What in Oxy for?"
"He did not like my attitude."
The physician considered the information, and while he did so, Ruut popped into existence beside him, a most uncivilized look of worry on his face.
"How is he, Curl? What have you found out?"
"No need for excitement, my dear administrator," the physician replied evenly, politely avoiding comment on Ruut's crude, low caste self control. "I just got here. Thanks to your order to the young man to fill himself up with nego, he was unable to let me project a hyperimage."
"But the situation was dangerous. Did you examine him? Did he tell you what he said to me?"
Curl glanced at him, and then quickly sent probing thoughts at Tensor's mind and body. After a moment, he gave it up, shaking his head. "The nego won't let him communicate at all. I'll have to order him to administer an antidote to himself."