the Med Ship to an exact, painstakingly precise aim at the sun around
which Dara rolled. He said, "Overdrive coming, Murgatroyd!"

Murgatroyd grabbed. The stars went out and the universe reeled and the
Med Ship became a sort of cosmos all its own, into which no signal
could come, no danger could enter, and in which there could be no
sound except those minute ones made to prevent silence.

Calhoun yawned again.

"Now there's nothing to be done for a day or two," he said wearily,
"and I'm beginning to understand why people sleep all they can, on
Dara. It's one way not to feel hungry. And one dreams such delicious
meals! But looking hungry is a social requirement, on Dara."

Maril said tensely, "You're going back? After they took the ship from
you?"

"The job's not finished," he explained. "Not even the famine's ended,
and the famine's a second-order effect. If there were no such thing as
a blueskin, there'd be no famine. Food could be traded for. We've got
to do something to make sure there are no more famines."

She looked at him oddly.

"It would be desirable," she said with irony. "But you can't do it."

"Not today, no," he admitted. Then he said longingly, "I didn't get
much sleep on the way here, while running a seminar on astrogation. I
think I'll take a nap."