Clare? Mr. A barbedwire fence, a thousand yards from its base in all directions, held back the crowds. The doctor looked grave. They faced each other like two helmeted, arrayed fencers, watching for an opening.
He still wanted to ask Sarloo if he had been surprised to have visitors arrive from the skies but he could think of no Jockairan term for surprise or wonder. Francis, no. He staggered against a short wiry form dressed in the powder-blue of the Space Navy. He sneaked a quick look over the top of the lead baffle when the lights went out.
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