“Shea had a confused impression of single-story houses with curving adobe walls and thatched roofs, with bigger buildings of stone looming behind them in the moonlight. A world of aromas filled his head, sharp and pungent, some familiar, most not; the only one he could name was something that smelled like curry. The ground beneath him was just that—ground, the packed earth of an unpaved street. He seemed to be in a sort of expanded intersection, not big enough to call a plaza.And hot. The heat b...eat all about him, stifling. By the time his head stopped spinning, Shea was already sweating. "Whew! If this is what it's like at night, I'd hate to be here at noon!""Brace yourself," Chalmers said grimly. "We probably will still be here.""Where are we, Doc?""To judge by the heat, I would say it must be somewhere in the tropics." Chalmers swayed.Sea caught his arm to steady him. "Only a minute, Doc—then you'll stabilize.""I shall recover," Chalmers muttered. "Am I growing weaker, Harold? Syllogismobile travel has never struck me so hard before"But Chalmers lurched, bumping against Shea, who might have toppled himself, if it had not been just at that moment that someone bumped into him from the other side.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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