Borden came back to the control room with his face set in savage lines.
"We didn't watch him," he said bitterly, "so he took advantage. Right now he's gloating, sure we have to accept any terms he demands, for the use of the log and maps to get home. And he's gloating because he'll have his revenge if we refuse, and if we do make a bargain he'll tell us how many ways we'd have died if we had not made it. We've got to check every device and every piece of equipment in the ship before we can lift off this planet—even after we've got fuel!"
He looked out a port. The shadows were long and slanting. It was twilight. Night was near.
Ellen said drearily into the talkie:
"Jerry, Sattell has vanished. Please come in!... Jerry, Sattell has vanished. Please come in!"
Far away, a tiny figure appeared in the half light. It came hastening toward the Danaë. It was one of the furry bipeds, probably one of those that had accompanied Jerry. It came through the dusk at an agitated lope, using its long, furry arms to balance itself. It made an agitated leap at sight of the space-ship and rushed onward more frantically than before.
"Look!" cried Borden. "That looks like a messenger!"
He went out the air-lock door, his hand on the weapon in his holster.
The biped bounced at sight of him. Its fur flattened, but it came on at a tearing rush. It leaped and slid and came to rest before him, its trunk waving wildly. He bent to scratch it, according to the custom that had become established in the past four days. But it did not wait. It stood up, making excited chirping noises and gesturing wildly. It made grimaces, in the falling night.
Then Borden noticed blood on its fur....