until the pain drove him mad. And, just incidentally, the Sons of the
Egg who'd attacked him in the hospital had tried to reach the camp twice
already, once by interpenetrating into a shipment of mandrakes, which
indicated to what measures they would resort. They meant to kill him
somehow, and the defense of him was growing too costly unless there were
positive results.

Dave hinted at having nearly reached the solution, giving her only a bit
of his wild idea of welding the sky. She took off with that, but he was
sure it wouldn't satisfy the Sather. In that, he was right. By
nightfall, when she came back from the city, he was groaning in pain.
The venom had arrived ahead of her, and his blood seemed to be on fire.

She laid a cool hand on his forehead. "Poor Dave," she said. "If I were
not registered and certified, sometimes I feel that I might ... but no
more of that. Ser Perth sends you this unguent which will hold back the
venom for a time, cautioning you not to reveal his softness." Ser Perth,
it seemed, had reverted to his pre-Sagittarian character as expected.
"And Sather Karf wants the full plans at once. He is losing patience."

He began rubbing on the ointment, which helped slightly. She peeled back
his shirt and began helping, apparently delighted with the hair which
he'd sprouted on his chest since his reincarnation. The unguent helped,
but it wasn't enough.

"He never had any patience to lose. What the hell does he expect me to
do?" Dave asked hotly. "Snap my fingers thus, yell _abracadabra_ and
give him egg in his beer?"

He stopped to stare at his hand, where a can of beer had suddenly