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OLIVINE, RENEGADE His Master's Vice His ship roused Elmo Ixton out of deepsleep to the customary view of broad Kansas prairie, but he felt more uneasy than usual. Maybe the sleep hadn't been deep enough to keep his subconscious knocked out the entire two weeks. The thing to do was not think about it. With vigorous movements, and with cheerfulness intended to fool himself, he bounced out of the sleeptank and began exercising. "Schedule and coffee, Rollo," he said between bends. "Yes, sir, Proxad Ixton," the ship responded snappily. "lanetfall on Roseate in seventeen minutes. Coffee coming right up, sir." The prairie flickered and vanished from the holophane bulkheads, to be replaced by a view of nearby space with what was presumably the planet Roseate floating low to starboard. "NO!" Ixton yelled frantically, clutching at the back of his control chair for support. "ut the prairie back!" "Yes, sir |
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