But what else can you do with a wail but hear it?
Quade nodded. "I've felt this before. It usually hits sooner. Let's trace it."
"I don't like this," I admitted. "It's not at all what I expected from what you said about transphasia. It must be something else."
"It couldn't be anything else. I know what to expect. You don't. You may begin smelling sensations, tasting sounds, hearing sights, seeing tastes, touching odors—or any other combination. Don't let it bother you."
"Of course not. I'll soothe my nerves by counting little shocks of lanolin jumping over a loud fence."
Quade grinned behind his faceplate. "Good idea."
"Then you can have it. I'm going to try keeping my eyes open and staying alive."
There was no reply.
His expression was tart and greasy despite all his light talk, and I knew mine was the same. I tested the security rope between our pressure suits. It was a taut and virile bass.
We scaled a staccato of rocks, our suits grinding pepper against our hides.