"To what end, Terrestrial? You have found your lost ship. Then what? Is this glimpse worth the death we die?"
"Maybe they're not dead," Retief said.
"Not dead?" Shluh lapsed into Groacian. "To have died in the burrow of one's youth. To have burst my throat sac ere I embarked with a mad alien to call up the dead."
"2396, make it snappy," Retief called. The speaker crackled heedlessly. The dark image on the screen drifted past, dwindling now.
"Nine years, and the mad one speaking as to friends," Shluh raved. "Nine years dead, and still to seek them."
"Another twenty seconds," Retief said softly, "and we're out of range. Look alive, boys."
"Was this your plan, Retief?" Shluh asked in Terran. "Did you flee Groac and risk all on this slender thread?"
"How long would I have lasted in one of your Groaci prisons?"
"Long and long, my Retief," Shluh hissed, "under the blade of an artist."
Abruptly, the ship trembled, seemed to drag, rolling the two passengers in their couches. Shluh hissed as the restraining harness cut into him. The shuttle boat was pivoting heavily, upending. Crushing acceleration forces built. Shluh gasped and cried out shrilly.