He pointed to his wrist and shook his head.
I grinned. "There's your answer, Ted. There wasn't time to fall in love
slowly."
Ted stared at the carpet and sulked. I had already, in a post-trauma
state of nerves, shattered his composure not a little by angrily
telling him that his "world-saving" code was really a cipher.
He'd been unwontedly morose ever since. I felt kind of bad about it,
but couldn't find an opportunity as yet of getting his ego back on its
feet.
Then Clatclit, resplendent in his new-grown ruby scales, made another
noise. I looked at him again.
He made a back-over-the-shoulder gesture, then tapped his wrist.
"A while ago ..." I interpreted aloud for Snow's benefit. And Ted's, if
he wasn't too sunken in gloom to listen.
He put one hand to his throat, and pointed an index finger at his eyes.
"... When Baxter was holding you as hostage?"
He pointed to me, then made a bang-bang gesture with the finger,
followed by a point back over and above his shoulder, toward where that
converter had been in relation to himself.
"Why did I blast the converter?"
Nod.
I stared. "What else was there to do? It was a little rough on Baxter,
but I had to save you, didn't I?"
Side-to-side headshake.
"I didn't have to save you that way?" I remarked.
Ted was watching Clatclit with interest, I noticed, his eyes dancing
with fascination at this better-than-code means of communication.
Clatclit shook his head.
"Okay, I'll bite," I said, puzzled. "What would _you_ have done in my
spot?"
Bang-bang gesture. Then serpentine motion with his hand.
"Shot the ... the lava tunnels?"
Disgusted stare.
"Threw a snake at him?" I hazarded, bewildered.
Abruptly, Ted laughed. I looked at him, chagrined. After all, he
couldn't expect me to be at my brightest in the mind-dampening presence
of his sister, though he was a little young to understand such things.
"I suppose you know what he means!" I said.
Ted continued to laugh, a high boy-soprano giggle which seemed in
itself to afford him additional amusement.
"Okay, okay," I said to him. "Give. What did Clatclit say I could
have done that would have spared Baxter and saved him from dissolving
anyhow?"
Ted managed to squeak out, between gusts of delight, "Clatclit
says that if he had been doing the shooting, he would just have
disintegrated ..." He rolled onto his face on the lounge sofa, and
couldn't go on.
"Disintegrated what?" I demanded, baffled.
Ted snorted, lifting his face to look for the reaction on mine. "The
water hose!"