he race went on. Backdrop: planets, stars, darkness. The little flecks of light that edged nearer didn't seem cheerful to Jordan. His lips were fixed in a straight, hard line. He could hear Docchi come in behind him.
"Nice speech," said Cameron.
"Yeah." Docchi glanced at the telecom. The view didn't inspire further comment.
"That's the trouble, it was just a speech. It didn't do you any good. My advice is to give up before you get hurt."
"It would be."
Cameron stood at the threshold. "I may as well tell you," he said reluctantly. "I tried to before the broadcast, as soon as I found out what you were going to do. But you wouldn't listen."
He came into the control compartment. Nona was huddled in a seat, motionless, expressionless. Anti was absent.
"You know why the Medicouncil refused to let you go?"
"Sure," said Docchi.
"The general metabolism of accidentals is further from normal than that of creatures we dredge from the bottom of the sea. Add to that an enormously elongated life span and you ought to see the Medicouncil's objection."