Swinging down the path towards his own rambling shack, Rat caught a sibilant whisper. Pausing, undecided, he heard it again.
"Here ... can you see me?" A white clad arm waved in the gloom. Rat regarded the arm in the window. Another impatient gesture, and he stepped to the sill.
"Yes?"—in the softest of whispers. The voices of the men in droning conversation drifted in. "What you want?"
Nothing but silence for a few hanging seconds, and then: "Can you pilot that ship?" Her voice was shaky.
He didn't answer, stared at her confused. He felt her fear as clearly as he detected it in her words.
"Well, can you?" she demanded.
"Damn yes!" he stated simply. "It now necessary?"
"Very! She is becoming worse. I'm afraid to wait until daylight. And ... well, we want you to pilot it! She refuses to risk Mr. Roberds' job. She favors you."
Rat stepped back, astonished. "She?"
Nurse Gray moved from the window and Rat saw the second form in the room, a slight, quiet figure on a small cot. "My patient," Nurse Gray explained. "She overheard our conversation awhile ago. Quick, please, can you?"