Hammer's Slammer Don Slade is coming domestic to the planet Tethys, to his son and the lady he loves. however the house among is chilly and darkish with planets which carry hidden risks, and if Don Slade should still ever achieve Tethys, that is while the true combating begins.
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There's a lot of water there, and the things that grow in it are pretty much to scale, from what Don told me. . "But the thing is," Pritchard added, sobering, "Don didn't get there. " "Not in two years," Hammer said with a frown. "Mother? Or Via! Not his wife, is she? " "Seems to be his sister-in-law," the younger man said. Hammer had already swung the display back around. The President's fingers were calling up Slade's personnel file and planetary data on Omicron Eridani II—one of a trio of worlds named Tethys by their original settlers.
You'd think after nine days in the copper-pod jungle, that place would look good. But . . " the foreman asked softly. The workers were filing past, chanting something melodious and without meaning. Slade had been unable in a year to learn a word of the native language. The Terzia swore that when her ancestors had landed on the planet, the autochthones already spoke Spanglish. There was no reason to believe that she was lying . . or that she was telling the truth, for that matter. Slade had no way to judge the Terzia's statements.
Instead, images of Don Slade wandered around the edges of the field, visible to both communicators. The big man walked along the jungle edge beside the tender on which he had arrived. He had a pair of imaging goggles, but they were pushed high on his forehead. With his lips pursed, Slade was trying to duplicate the notes of something that had called to him from the undergrowth. The song hung in the Stadtler Field. It was not sound but the shadow of a memory. In a second ghost-like moment, Don Slade was making love to one of the members of his work gang, a girl with bright eyes and skin the color of oak bark.