"Shut up!" Wayne snapped. "How do you know what I can do? You just let
me handle this."
"No sea juicing?" the Cirissin asked, waving his eye stem at Sheilah.
"No. No sea juicing, and no torch hair either, please. I just didn't
understand what you wanted at first. Now, if I could talk to your
captain--or, are you the captain?"
The Cirissin replied, "I spoke man. Name Orealgrailbliqu. Capitate nod
sparking merry can languish. I only earning languish. Gut, hah? Tree
whacks."
"Uh, yeah, very good indeed," Wayne said. "And in only three weeks! Now,
Mr.--you don't mind if I call you O'Reilly, do you? Well, then,
O'Reilly, do you have any suggestions as to how I should go about
getting you a high dragon bump? You want me to make you one? Or--"
"Yukon mike?" O'Reilly asked.
Wayne shrugged modestly. "Of course. With proper materials and
equipment--and enough time." He wondered if there was any chance at all
of convincing O'Reilly of that.
"Nod mush timeless," O'Reilly said doubtfully. "God gut lab tarry, few
wand lug."
Wayne hesitated, partly to translate O'Reilly's rumblings and partly to
marvel at an audacious idea taking shape in his mind.
He said, "Uh, yes, by all means. I _do_ want to look at your laboratory.
Let's go."
The Cirissin offered no objections to Sheilah accompanying them, so they
followed him, pulling themselves along the tubular corridor by means of
metal rings set in the walls, apparently for that specific purpose.
It was the same means of propulsion employed by their guide, except that
he used tentacles instead of hands.
They were more awkward than he, and so they fell behind.
"Listen, mister," Sheilah said. "You're not really gonna help these
creeps, are ya? Cause, I mean, if you are I'm gonna stop you--one way or
another."
Wayne looked at her, feeling a deep sadness that anything so gorgeous
could be so stupid. Stirred to self-consciousness by her near-nudity, he
glanced quickly away.
"Why don't you quit trying to think?" he advised her. "I may not be able
to make a high dragon bump, but so help me I'm going to do my damnedest
to see that they get one. And don't you get any stupid patriotic ideas.
You just keep out of it. Understand?"
O'Reilly had thrown open a door and was waiting for them.
Wayne looked inside.
"Smatter? Dun lake lab tarry?" the Cirissin asked after waiting nearly a
minute for some comment.
The laboratory probably wasn't adequate to produce a hydrogen bomb,
Wayne realized; but he wasn't at all sure. It was the most complex,
complete and compact laboratory he had ever seen. Its sheer size forced
him to revise upward his estimate of the overall size of the ship.
Much of the equipment was totally alien to him, but there was also a
great deal that he could at least guess the purpose of. Including a
fabulous array of electronic equipment.
When Wayne still didn't say anything, the Cirissin closed the door.
"Batter blan," he announced. "Wheeze india buck terth. Cup girlish ear.
Torch herf youdon brink high dragon bump."