Came the dawn.
"What'd you say Moya was doing?"
"Oh, I expect he's busy up forward."
The trouble was that he looked me straight in the eye. It takes practice to lie convincingly. And the Space Academy doesn't list the Art of Prevarication among its curricula.
"That misbegotten little son of an Aztec! He went back down, didn't he?"
I tried to jackknife off the table.
The medic flexed his muscles and said: "I can't take the responsibility—"
"When are you people going to get it through your stubborn heads that the responsibility for this whole shebang is mine and mine alone?"
Two more of the crew showed up. Under other circumstances, I might have enjoyed tangling with them. I know tricks that even the inventors of karate overlooked.
"All right," I gasped. "But give me the dope. He's not alone, is he? Are you in contact?"