"They're still working on the drive, back on Earth," said West.
"Someday they'll get it."
"I have no doubt of it," said Cartwright.
He swung back toward the laboratory. "Let's go in. Dinner will be ready
soon."
* * * * *
The table was set with white cloth and shining silver that gleamed in
the light of the flickering dinner tapers. Sparkling wine glasses stood
in their proper places. The centerpiece was a bowl of fruit--but fruit
such as West had never seen before.
Cartwright tilted a chair and dumped a thing that had been sleeping
there onto the floor.
"Your place, Mr. West," he said.
The thing uncoiled itself and glared at West with an eye of fishy
hatred, purred with lusty venom and slithered out of sight.
Across the table Louis Nevin apologized. "The damn things keep sneaking
through all the time. I suppose, Mr. West, you have trouble with them,
too."
"We tried rat traps," said Cartwright, "but they were too smart for
that. So we get along with them the best we can."
West laughed to cover momentary confusion, but he found Nevin's eyes
upon him.
"Annabelle," he said, "is the only one that ever bothered me."
"You're lucky," Nevin told him. "They get to be pests. There is one of
them that insists on sleeping with me."
"Where's Belden?" Cartwright asked.
"He ate early," explained Nevin. "Said there were a few things he
wanted to get done. Asked to be excused."