Something in that room could
have saved the unlucky man. It could have saved Mars, perhaps.
He growled for the hundredth time, cursing his fatigue-numbed mind. Too
little sleep, too much coffee and bracky....
He reached for the package of weed, realizing that he would miss it on
Earth, if he ever got there. Like everything here on the planet, he'd
begun by detesting it and wound up finding it the thing he wanted to
keep forever. He lighted the bracky and sat smoking, watching Lou drive.
When the first was finished, he lighted another from the butt.
She put out a hand and took it away. "Please, Dan. I can stand the
stuff, but I'll never like it, and the tractor's stuffy enough already.
I've taken enough of it. And it keeps reminding me of our test--the
three of you stinking up the place, puffing and blowing that out, while
I couldn't even get a breath of air...."
She was getting logorrhea herself now and--
The answer finally hit him! He jerked around, making a grab for Lou's
shoulder, motioning for the man to head back.
"Bracky--it has to be! Chris, that's it. Jake picked out the second
group of men from his friends--and they are all cronies because they
hang around so much in their so-called smoking room. The first time, it
killed the bugs for all of us who smoked--and it didn't work for you
because you never learned the habit.
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