"Be quiet!" That was not soothing; it had the snap of a command, so
sharp and with such authority in it that he obeyed. "You have been
hurt; the gel must do its work. Sleep now. It is good to sleep--"
Dalgard walked by the hammock, using all the quieting power he
possessed to ease the stranger, who now bore little resemblance to the
lithe, swiftly moving, other-worldly figure of the day before.
Stripped of his burned rags of clothing, coated with the healing stuff
of the merpeople--that thick jelly substance which was their bulwark
against illness and hurt--lashed into a hammock of sea fibers, he had
the outward appearance of a thick bundle of supplies. The scout had
seen miracles of healing performed by the gel, he could only hope for
one now. "Sleep--" he made the soothing suggestion over and over and
felt the other begin to relax, to sink into the semicoma in which he
must rest for at least another day.
It was true that they had watched the strange flying machine take off
from a roof top. And none of the mermen who had survived the battle
which had raged through the city had seen any of the off-worlder's
kind among the living or the dead of the alien forces.
Pages:
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280