"Barbell to Barhop," Stanton whispered. "What's he doing?"
"Still sitting motionless. Thinking, I guess. Or sleeping. It's hard to tell."
"Let me know if he starts moving around."
"Will do."
Poor, unsuspecting beastie, Stanton thought. Ten years of hard work, ten years of feeling secure, and within a very short time he's going to get the shock of his life.
Or maybe not. There was no way of knowing what kind of shocks the Nipe had taken in his life, Stanton thought. Not even of knowing whether the Nipe was capable of feeling anything like security.
It was odd, he thought, that he should feel a kinship toward both the Nipe and his brother in such similar ways. He had never met the Nipe, and his brother was a dim picture in his old memories, but they were both very well known to him. Certainly better known to him than he was to them.
And yet, seeing his brother's face on the TV screen, hearing him talk, watching the way he moved about, watching the expressions on his face, had been a tremendously moving thing. Not until that moment had he really known himself.
Meeting him face to face would be easier now, but it would still be a scene highly charged with emotional tension.
He kicked something that rattled and rolled away from him. He stopped, freezing in his tracks, trying to pierce the dully glowing gloom. It was a human skull.