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"You can say that again! Son of a bitch!" Throwing down his twist, stepping on it, Xris stalked over to stare gloomily out the Schiavona's viewscreen at the stars.
"What the devil do we do now?" Jamil asked.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Xris said grimly. "Anyone got any bright ideas?"
Tycho, who had absentmindedly allowed himself to turn the gray color of the metal bulkheads, shook his head.
Quong might not have heard the question. He had placed his hands on his knees, was gazing at a point in the center of the deck.
Pleased with the response, though he had no idea what caused it, Raoul pattered on. "The Royal Navy. Something about the military has big problems and those dreadful people intended to take advantage of the situation." "Did they say anything else?" Xris asked.
Raoul's brow furrowed in thought, something he never would have permitted--furrowing was bad for the complexion--but the situation appeared grave. At this point, the Little One nudged him with an elbow. They held one of their silent conversations and Raoul's brow cleared. He assisted the dewrinkling process by smoothing his skin with his hand while he talked.
"Yes, that is correct. My friend reminds me that the dreadful woman mentioned something to the effect that the number of hours stated didn't give them a great deal of time. The ugly man replied that the 'device' was completed
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