Seeing that, the com-tech
laughed.
"We have a double reason for a strict watch. Suppose whatever they've
been looking for jumps _us_? They're not worrying over that it now
appears."
So they took watch and watch, three hours on and three hours in rest.
When it came Raf's turn he did not remain sitting in the flitter,
listening to the com-tech's heavy breathing, but walked a circular
beat which took him into the darkness of the night in a path about the
flyer. Overhead the stars were sharp and clear, glittering gem points.
But in the dead city no light showed, and he was sure that no aliens
camped there tonight.
He was sleeping when Soriki's grasp on his shoulder brought him to
that instant alertness he had learned on field maneuvers half the
Galaxy away.
"Business," the com-tech's voice was not above a whisper as he leaned
over the pilot. "I think they are on the move."
The light was the pale gray of pre-dawn. Raf pulled himself up with
caution to look at the globe. The com-tech was right. A dark opening
showed on the alien ship; they had released their hatch. He fastened
his tunic, buckled on his equipment belt and helmet, strapped his
boots.
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