"How big a city is Bidgrass? Does it have a university?"
Daley smiled again and shook his head. "They got fields and pastures, but it's more like a military camp than a town. I see barracks for the workers and egg hunters, hangars and shops, a big egg-processing plant and warehouses around the landing field. I never get away from the field, but I'd guess four, five thousand people at Bidgrass."
Cole sighed and put down his cup on the log desk.
"What is it they import, one half so precious as the stuff they sell?"
Daley chuckled and rocked on his toes. "Drugs, chemicals, machinery parts, hundreds of tons of Warburton energy capsules. Pistols, blasters, cases of flame charge, tanks of fire mist—you'd think they had a war on."
"That's no help. I'll make up for lost time when I get there. I'll beat their ears off with questions."
Daley's gnomish face grew serious. "Watch what you ask and who you ask, Doc. They're suspicious as hell and they hate strangers."
"They need my help. Besides, I'll deal only with scientists."
"Bidgrass isn't much like a campus. I don't know, Doc, something's wrong on that planet and I'm always glad to lift out."
"Why didn't you and the others eat any of that stomper egg?" Cole asked abruptly.