The hot yellow sun was just bulging over the eastern horizon as he
dressed. He made his way to Lanson's hut and tapped quietly.
After spending half an hour with the physicist, he went to Zor Ala's
hut and spent ten minutes with him. Then he went back to the shelter
which he shared with McClellan.
"Up bright and early, aren't you?" the Australian greeted him as he
entered.
"Rather early, but none too brightly," Randall replied. "I'm getting
too old to be frolicking around with a bunch of overgrown ants."
"You aren't alone," agreed McClellan ruefully. He stretched painfully,
groaned, then quickly donned his clothes.
"What's on the agenda for today?" he asked.
"Among other things," replied Randall. "I'm going to find out what
happened to McMahon and his bride. We already know what happened to
Blake Garnet," he added, memory of that silent form on the operating
table still vivid in his mind.
Someone rapped sharply on the door, and Jackson stuck his head in.
"Lanson asked me to tell you that Zor Ala is sick," he said.
"What's the trouble?" Randall asked.