Crossing the arrival concourse, forbin was thinking of nothing but his immediate logistic problems: a room, a bath, then the location and examination of the transmitting site. Kassad could hear the squid shaking and beginning to break up as he hung on a pivot ring and all but accepted the fact that the ousters had not wasted money or space on such low-probability rescue devices for their squids.
She was cursing under her breath when she left him, her lunch hour blown.
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