LOBA’S HEAD WAS CLEARING. Something was very, very wrong. The mythranil was wearing off. His run was coming to an end, and he hadn’t returned to bliss by following the woman. Her interruption of his vision, his requesting the copilot fly them to the surface, and their boarding the shuttle—none of it had been the effects of the drug. It had all been real.
The shuttle had landed. Loba unfastened his belt and got up unsteadily before following the geo-phys scientist to the open air lock. An icy breeze hit him as he stood on the shuttle’s ramp in the pre-dawn light. He shivered. He wasn’t dressed for such weather. He was wearing only the uniform that he wore aboard ship. What the hell was he doing here? He hadn’t set foot on an alien planet in years.
The woman was already walking away into t
