"Lucifer's idea of a bat. I think that big flying thing I saw from the lifeboat was shaped like this midget. Haven't seen any birds."
Dorothy hugged his arm. "Not even one measly robin?"
"Sorry, Whifflepuff—fresh out of robins."
Wright blinked at his compass. "Meadow that way." Paul was inattentive, needing the warm quiet of the woman beside him. Wright added: "First, breakfast." He broke the seal of a ration package and snarled. "Thirty days, I b'lieve you said. Antique garbage—dehydrated hay."
Dorothy said, "You're nicest when you're mad, Doc. We'll soon have to try the local stuff, I suppose."
"Uh-huh. But no guinea-pig work for you or Ann."
She was startled. "Why not? I can digest boilerplate."
"Two women on Lucifer: valuable livestock." Wright smiled with his mouth full. "I'm boss, remember? For guinea-pig work, the men draw lots."
She was grave. "I won't argue. It so happens——" She peeked into the nest. "Poor little fuzzies lined it with fur. Their own, I'll bet."
"It so happens what, dear?"