Ingomar was too ill for anger. "Let me understand this," he said. "You
ruined my ship to get parts for yours. Why? Why not just take my ship?"
"Too slow," Pisces II said. He took the container of ointment in his
beak and set it beside Ingomar's hand. "Here, you can rub it on by
yourself now. Get busy."
Pisces I said, "By your standards our planet is a terrible distance
away. Your ship would take too long. Hurry, now. We've got to take you
to ... what do you call it, Earth? What an odd name! We're in sort of a
hurry to get home, as you might imagine."
Ingomar hurried. With the help of the mysterious, healing ointment he
was soon able to get up and make his way to the ship.
"One more question," he said. "Your ship was defective and you set down
here and you've been here for a long time, and you're a long way from
home. What were you doing so far from home, in the first place?"
"What do you suppose?" said Pisces I irritably. "We were looking for
intelligent life. Get a move on, now. If we don't waste too much time
on this Earth, we may still find some!"