“We have something—­probably supplied,” Rip straightened.  “Might pass along to your bosses that we know that.  Now suppose you tell me about your relief.  When is it due?”

“Not until after we take off on the long orbit if you leave us like this.  On the other hand,” the other added coolly, “I don’t see how you can do otherwise.  We’ve still got those—­” with his chin he pointed to the com-unit.

“After a few alterations,” Rip amended.  The bulk of the com was in a tightly sealed case which they would need a flamer to open.  But he could and did wreak havoc with the exposed portions.  The tech watching this destruction spouted at least two expressions his companion had not used.  But when Rip finished he was his unruffled self again.

“Now,” Rip drew his sleep rod.  “A little rest and when you wake it will all be a bad dream.”  He carefully beamed each man into slumber and helped Dane strip off their bonds.  But before he left the room he placed on the recorder the voucher for the supplies they had taken.  The Queen was not stealing—­under the law she still had some shadow of rights.

Suited they crossed the rough rock to the ship.  And there about the fins, already frozen into brittle spikes was a tangle of plants—­the rich result of years of collecting.

“Did you find anything?” Dane asked as they rounded that mess on their way to the ladder.

Rip’s voice came back through the helmet com.  “Nothing we know how to interpret.  I wish Frank or Craig had had a chance to check.  We took tri-dees of everything before we dumped.  Maybe they can learn something from these when—­”

His voice trailed off leaving that “when” to ring in both their minds.  It was such an important “when.”  When would either the steward or the Medic recover enough to view those tri-dee shots?  Or was that “when” really an ominous “if?”

Back in the Queen, sealed once more for blast-off, they took their stations.  Dane speculated as to the course Rip had set—­were they just going to wander about the system hoping to escape notice until they had somehow solved their problem?  Or did Shannon have some definite port in mind?  He did not have time to ask before they lifted.  But once they were space borne again he voiced his question.

Rip’s face was serious.  “Frankly—­” he began and then hesitated for a long moment before he added, “I don’t know.  If we can only get the Captain or Craig on their feet again—­”

“One thing,” Ali materialized to join them, “Sinbad’s back in the hydro.  And this morning you couldn’t get him inside the door.  It’s not a very good piece of evidence—­”

No, it wasn’t but they clung to it as backing for their actions of the past few hours.  The cat that had shown such a marked distaste for the company of the stricken, and then for the hydro, was now content to visit the latter as if some evil he has sensed there had been cleansed with the dumping of the garden.  They had not yet solved their mystery but another clue had come into their hands.