But it was hardly worth rising. He
was not in the least hungry for the concentrated food. He could repeat
the information tapes they carried dull word for dull word.
"Nothing to see--nothing but these blasted walls!" Again Wonstead's
voice arose in querulous protest.
Yes, while in overdrive there was nothing to see. The ports of the
ship would be sealed until they were in normal space once more. That
is, if it worked and they were not caught up forever within this thick
trap where there was no time, light, or distance.
The gong sounded, but Raf made no move to rise. He heard Wonstead
move, saw from the corner of his eye the other's bulk heave up
obediently from the pad.
"Hey--mess gong!" He pointed out the obvious to Raf.
With a sigh the other levered himself up on his elbows. If he did not
move, Wonstead was capable of reporting him to the captain for strange
behavior, and they were all too alert to a divagation which might mean
trouble. He had no desire to end in confinement with Morris.
"I'm coming," Raf said sullenly. But he remained sitting on the edge
of the pad until Wonstead left the cabin, and he followed as slowly as
he could.
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