CHAPTER II
Well inside the solar system the huge space ship plunged on, released from the warp drive and slowly braking to establish an orbit around the third planet.
Herb came up from the deep stupor of the drugs. He had been under their influence for the last twenty hours while the sleep tapes hammered information into his unconscious brain.
"All right," said Wezen, their private custodian, "time for exercise. Two hours of work-outs, and then you eat."
Herb sat up and felt his head. It ached dully. "Give me a minute. Time to think, Wezen. I'm—"
The other two starmen were also recovering.
"None of that! No time to think! Get up! Get up!"
Herb got reluctantly to his feet. Cold air washed over his nude body, and he trembled. He wanted to return to sleep, not the drugged sleep of the sleep tapes, but the genuine, untroubled sleep. Something frightening and alien was taking place in his mind.
He looked around for a dream form. It was a subconscious response. He realized with relief that it was not necessary to fill one in. Technically, he had not been asleep.