*
When he awoke, the pain in his chest was considerably lessened, and his head was relatively clear. /You didn’t listen to me, did you?/ he asked Charlie. /Well, never mind. Thanks./ He turned his head and saw Napoleon waiting patiently, juice-pack in one mechanical hand and a half-crushed box of matzohs in the other. Slowly, Bandicut sat up, managing without assistance. “Thanks, Nappy,” he croaked, taking the juice and flatbread. He tore into them like a starving man, scattering crumbs everywhere and dribbling orange juice in his lap. He didn’t care; he drank greedily and stuffed his mouth with what felt like dry flour and tasted like ambrosia. He could feel his body screaming for sustenance.
/Charlie, am I in shape enough to go to the bridge?/ he asked, when he paused for breath.
The quarx’s answer was nearly inaudible.
/// Don’t know. Try. ///
Bandicut slid down from his bunk. The robot backed out of his way. He glanced in the mirror, and was shocked by his gaunt appearance. His body must have ravaged its own reserves in its quarx-guided healing. /You burned yourself out doing this, didn’t you?/ he asked the quarx accusingly.
/// I . . . just tired, really.
Yes. ///
Bandicut shook his head and made his way carefully to the cockpit. He ached, and felt some dizziness, but he suspected that the quarx felt worse than he did. /Well, rest, damn it. And that’s an order./ He squeezed into the pilot’s seat.
/// Yes . . . ///
Charlie said, and a moment later, added,
/// John, it’s time to switch. ///
Bandicut blinked. /What?/
/// To, uh . . .
fusion chamber two. ///
Bandicut shook his head dreamily. Fusion chamber two—the second to last. What day was this? He squinted at the inertial nav. Day twenty-nine. He drew a breath. /Shall I send Nappy out?/
There was a pause.
/// Yes . . . that would be good. ///
Bandicut reached to shut down the fusion reaction. /Are you turning off the threading field?/
/// What?
Yes, yes—the stone knows what to do.
Don’t worry. ///
Scowling, Bandicut called Napoleon and gave him instructions to go out and switch the location of the stone. He closed his eyes and held his breath as the threading field cut off, along with the gravity. But he vowed to stay alert, even if the repair was completely out of his hands. He was determined to keep an eye on Charlie.
Not that he had the slightest idea what he would do if the quarx needed his help.
Neptune Crossing Page 71