Dave Questell mentioned that she'd had a hard day, and was probably
making sack-time, and she wouldn't welcome being called at 0130.
Nobody seemed to have realized that it had gotten that late.
"Well, I'll call the ship and have a recording made for her for when
she gets up. But till we get something that'll sort this mess out
and make sense of it, I'm stopped."
"You're stopped, period, Lillian," Dorver told her. "What these
people gibber at us doesn't even make as much sense as the Shooting
of Dan McJabberwock. The real information is conveyed by telepathy."
* * * * *
Lieutenant j.g. Ayesha Keithley was on the screen the next morning
while they were eating breakfast. She was a blonde, like Lillian.
"I got your message; you seem to have problems, don't you?"
"Speaking conservatively, yes. You see what we're up against?"
"You don't know what their vocal organs are like, do you?" the girl
in naval uniform in the screen asked.
Lillian shook her head. "Bennet Fayon's hoping for a war, or an
epidemic, or something to break out, so that he can get a few
cadavers to dissect.
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