"There you are," he said to Scott. He sounded completely deflated. No sting remained in his voice.
Scott stepped forward into the hold, then froze. His body went cold.
The hold was a writhing mass of cats.
Their queer angled bodies darted in a great pile beyond the door. Their red bodies glowed and twisted strangely. They flew about a huge stack of lead containers—uranium cells secured for the long trip home.
And Scott went sick with understanding. Through rigid lips, he forced the words: "Energy-eaters!"
The Captain laughed oddly. "And you wondered how they lived on this naked rock. They ate the raw ore, of course. No wonder they hung around Durval's machines sucking up what free energy they could. They broke through the air feeder system here. No wonder. With cells of 80% pure uranium waiting for them." His voice broke.
"So we're finished," he continued. "The Kastil will be loaded before we can even clean the cats out. We're done."
He swayed back against the bulkhead. Scott took his arm.
"Get away from me." Elderburg wrenched away, his loathing clear even behind the bulky suit. "If what the men say is true. If you sold us out—" His voice trailed off. "Call your men out of the pits, Jerill. We're blasting off tonight."
"No." Scott leaned forward, his eyes mere slits behind the lense of his helmet. "Is there any uranium left?"