“Flying snakes and swimming spiders,” the communications techneer held out his stick for their appraisal. “I’m going to be afraid to sit down out here-anything may pop up now,”
Tas was plainly torn between the now tractable dragon and the water dwellers Rogan had brought him. “All this"- his pudgy hands indicated the world of cliffs, sand and sea -"new, unclassified.”
Gully holstered his gun. He was frowning at the ceaseless waves.
“What do you make of those, Sim?” he demanded of the pilot, pointing to a low bank of clouds slowly expanding up the rim of the sky.
“On earth, I’d say a storm.”
“Might be a bad one, too,” Rogan commented. “And we have no shelter but the ship. At least this is summer- we’re warm enough.”
“You think so?” asked Dard with some reason. The sea wind was rising, to become a wet lash with an icy bite in its flail. The temperature was dropping fast.
Kimber studied the clouds. “I’d say we better get back.”
But when he turned inland his gasp brought them all around.
They had left the star ship on an even keel. Now it listed so that its nose pointed down the valley away from the sea.