“We don’t know much about this place, Orne. And unless you bring them into the fold, there’ll be nothing but ashes for our archaeologists to pick over.”
“Seems a dirty shame.”
“I agree, but—”
The call bell jangled.
Stetson’s voice sounded tired: “Yeah, Hal?”
“That mob’s only about five kilometers out, Stet. We’ve got Orne’s gear outside in the disguised air sled.”
“We’ll be right down.”
“Why a disguised sled?” asked Orne.
“If they think it’s a ground buggy, they might get careless when you most need an advantage. We could always scoop you out of the air, you know.”