Arnsen tried to struggle up. "I won't—"
O'Brien signalled again. Another gem drifted close. From it a gray breath of cloud floated, perfume-sweet, soporific. It crept into Arnsen's nostrils....
And he slept.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Jewel-Folk
The room was unchanged when he woke once more. O'Brien sat cross-legged, looking into space. His face had altered, had acquired a new peace and maturity.
He heard Arnsen's slight movement and turned.
"Awake? How do you feel?"
"All right. Well enough to hear explanations," Arnsen said with a flash of temper. "I've been nearly crazy—looking for you all over this damned asteroid. I still think I'm crazy after all this."