The other ship had opened communications with the planet, the computer indicated. Two more viewscreens lit up. One showed a slender young woman with a large, crooked nose on a ship’s bridge, the other an elderly man before a console. They both wore green uniforms, and they were conversing animatedly in code. It took the computer less than a minute to break it, so Tuf could listen in. “. . . damned if I know what it is,” the woman on the ship was saying. “There’s neve... Continuar leyendo

The transmission was coming from the chief land-mass. The Ark tapped into it. At the same time, it found the ship that was moving toward them—there was only one—and flashed it on another screen

Ship in orbit,” came the demand, “ship in orbit, this is Namor Control. State your name and business. State your name and business, please. Interceptors have been dispatched. State your name and business

vice, I fear.”The pieman slipped on his glove again and opened the hotbox. “You know what they say. Curiosity makes you hungry.”“Indeed,” said Tuf. “I must admit I have never heard them say that before.”The man frowned. “No, I got it wrong. Hunger makes you curious, that’s what it is. Don’t matter. My pies will fill you up.”