"Fine. We're all fine, although we could use a bath and some home cooking. But don't try to change the subject, Rick. You must not try to get us out of here. You'd end up in this prison, if not dead."
Rick could see that the conversation was leading nowhere, and he knew now that the scientists were all right. "We're tired, Tony," he said wearily. "It's been a rough night."
"All right, boys. One of us will be awake at all times, so call us whenever you wish."
Zircon looked at them anxiously as they put the radio units away. "How about it? Is Tony right?"
"Right as radishes," Rick assented. "The lookout is where we can't reach him, except with a gun, and the noise of a shot would defeat us. I'm sure there's some way out of this, but I can't think straight. I'm too tired."
"Below and into your bunks, both of you," Zircon commanded. "Chahda and I will stand by until we're in safe waters, then we can all get some sleep."
Rick needed no second invitation. He was asleep in five minutes. Hours later a ray of sun through the porthole woke him out of deep, dreamless slumber. He stretched luxuriously. A wash and a cold drink would be just right, he decided, and wondered how long he had been asleep. His watch told him it was two thirty in the afternoon.
He got to his feet and saw that Scotty was out of his bunk, probably on deck. Chahda was sleeping quietly, even though the swinging quiver Rick had placed on a hook near the bunk struck him in the elbow every time the boat rolled.
Rick lifted the quiver down and started to hang it where Chahda wouldn't be bothered. He paused, brows furrowed. He had the answer to their problem in his hands. An arrow was silent.
He shook his head and put the quiver away. It would mean putting a hunting arrow through the guard's head without warning. He knew perfectly well he was incapable of killing a man in cold blood, no matter what the provocation. It would be an easy shot, but one he would never make.