In a dwindling spiral they circled the planet, and Murph's cold blue eyes studied the radarscreen. Things looked good: no sign of cities, social denizens or humanoids. He was scribbling notes on his desk when the all-wave above him started crackling. He watched the green line sweep back and forth along the dial, finally centering on the wave length which was broadcasting. As it focused, the speaker sputtered in.

Murph stood up. He looked again at Sitra. He was choked and tired, standing there, and as he grasped for breath, Forsyth ran by him, ran up to her. Angrily he watched. Forsyth running up to his woman! What was wrong with these men? Murph saw Forsyth put his arms around Sitra, and say—meaninglessly to Murph—"Jimmy, Jimmy!"

Similar Bookshelves 591j1m