‘Obviously, the whole damn thing’s been corrupted – probably never worked to start with—’ ‘It did! Me and Fid made damned sure—’ ‘But it was stolen before you could try it out for real, wasn’t it?’ ‘That doesn’t matter – I tell you—’ ‘Everybody shut up,’ Spindle said, slowly raising his head, his narrow forehead wrinkled in a frown as he scanned the tabletop. ‘Corrupted. You may have something there, Picker.’ He sniffed the air as if seeking a scent, then crouched down. ‘Yeah. Give me a hand, someone, with these here cots.’
