The voice came from the ceiling this time. "One ounce of hundred-proof
liquor every four hours."
"Is there any here?" Murdoch asked.
"Tell us where to find it and we will get it from your ship."
Murdoch told them where the ship's supply of beverages was stowed, and
headed for the front of the building. The robot was already in the
lobby. It allowed him to follow outside, but said, "Stand back from the
barrier."
Murdoch leaned against the building, trying not to show his eagerness.
This was an unexpected break. He watched the ground level as the robot
passed through the barrier. The dark line in the ground didn't change.
The gravel stayed in place on both sides. Neither did the plants to the
sides move. Evidently the barrier only opened at one spot to let things
through.
The robot had no trouble with the hatches, and came out quickly with
a bottle in one hand. Murdoch worried again whether it had discovered
that the ship's alarm was set. If so, it didn't say anything as it drew
near. It handed Murdoch the bottle and disappeared into the building.
After a few moments Murdoch followed. He found Waverill asleep, but at
his footsteps the older man stirred. "Murdoch? Where's that drink?"
"Right away, sir." Murdoch got ice from the alien's pantry, put it in
a glass with a little water and poured in about a jigger of rye. He
handed it to Waverill, then poured himself a straight shot. Rye wasn't
his favorite, but it might ease his nerves a little.
"Mm," said Waverill, "'S better."
Murdoch couldn't see any marks on him. "Did they stick any needles into
you, sir?"
"I'm not paying you to be nosey."
"Of course not, sir. I only wanted to know so I wouldn't touch you in a
sore spot."
"There are no sore spots," Waverill said. "I want to sleep a couple of
hours, so go away. Then I'll want a steak and a baked potato."
"Surely, sir."
Murdoch went outside again and toured the grounds without seeing
anything new. He went to the barrier and stared at the ship for a
while. Then, to work off tension, he went into the gymnasium and took
a workout. He had a shower, looked in on Waverill and found him still
asleep, then went back to the library. The books and tapes were all
Terran, with no clues about the aliens. The museum was no more helpful.
It was a relief when he heard Waverill calling.
There were steaks in the larder, and potatoes. Waverill grumbled at the
wait while Murdoch cooked. The older man still acted a little drowsy,
but had a good appetite. After eating he wanted to rest again.
Murdoch wandered some more, then forced himself to sit down in the
library and pretend to study. He went over his plans again and again.
They were tenuous enough. He had to get a drop of Waverill's blood
sometime within the next day or two, and get it past the barrier. Then
he had to get it into the ship and, once away from Ganymede, inoculate
himself. The problem of Waverill didn't worry him. The drowsiness would
have to be coped with, but based on the time-table Waverill's symptoms
would give him, he should be able to set up a flight plan which would
allow him to nap.
The time dragged agonizingly. He had two more drinks during the
"afternoon", took another workout and a couple of turns around the
building, and finally saw the sunlamps dimming. After that there was a
time of lying on his bunk trying to force himself to relax. Finally he
did sleep.