Ali laughed.  “Such fun and games!  Imagine a hundred of the dear creatures flitting in and out of the broadcasting section.  And Captain Jellico has the only Hoobat on Terra!  He can name his own terms for rounding up the plague.  The whole place will be filled with sleepers before they’re through—­”

Would that scrap of information send some Patrolmen hurtling off to the Tower in search of the caged creature?  The thought of such an expedition was, in a small way, comforting to the captives.

An hour or so later they were fed, noiselessly and without visible attendants, when three trays slid through a slit in the wall at floor level.  Rip’s nose wrinkled.

“Now I get the vector!  We’re plague-ridden—­keep aloof and watch to see if we break out in purple spots!”

Ali was lifting thermo lids from the containers and now he suddenly arose and bowed in the direction of the blank wall.  “Many, many thanks,” he intoned.  “Nothing but the best—­a sub-commander’s rations at least!  We shall deliver top star rating to this thoughtfulness when we are questioned by the powers that shine.”

It was good food.  Dane ate cautiously because of his torn lip, but the whole adventure took on a more rose-colored hue.  The lapse of time before they were put through the usual procedure followed with criminals, this excellent dinner—­it was all promising.  The Patrol could not yet be sure how they were to be handled.

“They’ve fed us,” Ali observed as he clanged the last dish back on a tray.  “Now you’d think they’d bed us.  I could do with several days—­and nights—­of bunk time right about now.”

But that hint was not taken up and they continued to sit on the bench as time limped by.  According to Dane’s watch it must be night now, though the steady light in the windowless room did not vary.  What had Hovan discovered in the Queen?  Had he been able to rouse any of the crew?  And was the spacer still inviolate, or had the Terrapolice and the Patrol managed to take her over?

He was so very tired, his eyes felt as if hot sand had been poured beneath the lids, his body ached.  And at last he nodded into naps from which he awoke with jerks of the neck.  Rip was frankly asleep, his shoulders and head resting against the wall, while Ali lounged with closed eyes.  Though the Cargo-apprentice was sure that Kamil was more alert than his comrades, as if he waited for something he thought was soon to occur.

Dane dreamed.  Once more he trod the reef rising out of Sargol’s shallow sea.  But he held no weapon and beneath the surface of the water a gorp lurked.  When he reached the break in the water-washed rock just ahead, the spidery horror would strike and against its attack he was defenseless.  Yet he must march on for he had no control over his own actions!

“Wake up!” Ali’s hand was on his shoulder, shaking him back and forth with something close to gentleness.  “Must you give an imitation of a space-whirly moonbat?”