“I’m not sure, sir. I understand he was in a great state of shock when he arrived. I would imagine they’re giving him rehabilitative treatment.”
Lors grinned again. Apparently the method by which they had snatched the detective had completely unnerved him. “I’d like to see him,” he told the spacer. “Where can I find Doctor Zuloe?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Only authorized personnel will be allowed to interrogate him.”
[p136]
“I’m authorized, I believe. I captured him. I’m Lors.”
The young spacer flushed. “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know who you were.” He pointed to the door behind him. “You may go through there. Straight down the corridor until you reach the fourth ward.”
“Doctor Zuloe will be there?”
“I think so.”
“Thank you.”
Lors shoved the door open and walked down the long hall toward the fourth ward, not quite sure in his mind how he could spring the Terran from the hospital and get him down to where the scout ships were hangared. But it had to be done. If he failed, and they all ended up dead, or thrown into the penal colonies on Thista, the trade program with Terra would be set back at least fifty years. All the ground they had gained, all the knowledge and plans they had formulated, would be useless. They would have to start from scratch.
The wrecked scout ship could be covered up, but the loss of Detective Lieutenant Brice and Nicholas Danson would not go unnoticed, especially when Beth Danson spilled her story about the strange events that had gone on at the cabin. Of course, Terra would never be able to corroborate what she had experienced - yet they were on the verge of space travel, and they were a war-like race. They could cause all sorts of unnecessary trouble in space.