The crews of repairmen were working down in the hull, and the
_Swiftwing_ was a hell of clanging noise and shuddering heat.
Maintenance was working overtime, but the rest of the crew, with nothing
to do, stood around in the recreation rooms, tried to play games, cursed
the heat and the dreary dimness through the viewports, and twitched at
the boiler-factory racket from the holds.
Toward the end of the third day, the biologist reported air, water and
gravity well within tolerable limits, and Captain Vorongil issued
permission for anyone who liked, to go outside and have a look around.
Bart had a sort of ship-induced claustrophobia. It was good to feel
solid ground under his feet and the rays of a sun, even a green sun, on
his back. Even more, it was good to get away from the constant presence
of his shipmates. During this enforced idleness, their presence
oppressed him unendurably--so many tall forms, gray skins, feathery
crests. He was always alone; for a change, he felt that he'd like to be
alone without Lhari all around him.
But as he moved away from the ship, Ringg dropped out of the hatchway
and hailed him. "Where are you going?"
"Just for a walk."
Ringg drew a deep breath of weariness. "That sounds good. Mind if I come
along?"