Gradually, over a period of weeks, the damage to hydroponics subsided; the pests were under control. There was nothing to worry about unless they mutated again, which was unlikely.
Kelburn scowled at the pilot. "Where are we now?" he challenged, his face creased with suspicion.
"You have access to all the instruments, so you should know," said Taphetta. He was crouching and seemed about to spring, but he was merely breathing relaxedly through a million air tubes.
"I do know. My calculations show one star as the most probable. We should have reached it two days ago—and we're nowhere near it."
"True," admitted Taphetta. "We're heading toward what you would consider the fifth or sixth most likely star."
Kelburn caught the implication. They all did. "Then you know where it is?" he asked, suspicion vanishing.
"Not in the sense you're asking—no, I'm not sure it's what you're looking for. But there was once a great civilization there."
"You knew this and didn't tell us?"
"Why should I?" Taphetta looked at him in mild astonishment. "Before you hired me, I wouldn't tell you for obvious reasons. And afterward—well, you engaged all my skill and knowledge and I used them to bring you here by the shortest route. I didn't think it necessary to tell you until we actually arrived. Is that wrong?"