"So come on, Ollie," said a skinny, sour-looking man of about thirty years.
"O.K., Lazar, O.K." Marashovski's gonna be trouble, Brunei thought. Why did they put him on the ship?
He handed the pills around. Lazar Marashovski was about to gulp his down.
"Wait a minute!" said Brunei. "Let's all do it together."
"One, two, three!"
They swallowed the pills. In about ten minutes, thought Brunei, we should be feeling it.
He looked at the crew. Ten of us, he thought, ten brilliant misfits. Lazar, who has spent half his life high on baronite; Vera Galindez, would-be medium, trying to make herself telepathic with mescaline; Jorge Donner.... Why is he here?
Me, at least with me it's simple—this or jail.
What a crew! Drug addicts, occultists, sensationalists ... and what else? What makes a person do a thing like this?
It'll all come out, thought Brunei. In sixteen years, it'll all come out.