"At least I won't have to worry about getting gobbled by a natural underwater enemy," he figured.
He had to wait another subjective hour before the silent flash of white lightning lifted him out of his third, and last, Contact on Arcturus Beta.
VII
"All right, sir?" asked Peters, removing the bulky helmet with care.
Jerry sat up and nodded, blinking his eyes as he adjusted to his body once more. He was hard-pressed not to start testing his own joints and lungs and limbs for knowledge, and had to forcibly remind himself that this frail shell was his "normal" body.
Now to await the technician's analysis of the data.
Jerry, waving off Peters' hand, outstretched in automatic offer of assistance, sat up wearily on the edge of the couch. After a deep breath he got to his feet. Within the ship, the data-analyzer clattered busily.
"Some hot coffee, sir?" asked Peters, helpfully.
Jerry was annoyed at the effort it cost him just to talk. "That will go nicely, Captain," he managed.