"Let's not talk of death." Sonali Siddhartha's thought was soft. "We have so many things to do."
"We will have a language session," said Juan Pedro. "Si?"
Matsukuo chuckled. "Good! Houston, until you've tried to learn Spanish, Hindustani, Arabic, Japanese, and French all at once, you don't know what a language session is. We—"
The Hawaiian's thought was suddenly broken off by a shrieking burst of mental static.
The effect was similar to someone dropping a handful of broken glass into an electric meat grinder right in the middle of a Bach cantata.
It was Sager, coming out of his coma.
Almost automatically, the five contacted his mind to relax him as he awoke. They touched his mind—and were repelled!
Stay out of my mind!
With almost savage fury, the still half-conscious Sager hurled thoughts of hatred and fear at the five minds who had tried to help him. They recoiled from the burst of insane emotion.
"Leave him alone," Houston thought sharply. "He's a tough fighter."