"Man," said Terl, "is an endangered species."
The hairy paws of the Chamco brothers hung suspended above the broad keys of the laser-bash game. The cliffs of Char's eyebones drew down over his yellow orbs as he looked up in mystery. Even the steward, who had been padding quietly about picking up her saucepans, lumbered to a halt and stared.
Terl could not have produced a more profound effect had he thrown a meat-girl naked into the middle of the room.
The clear dome of the Intergalactic Mining Company employee recreation hall shone black around and above them, silvered at its crossbars by the pale glow of the Earth's single moon, half-full on this late summer night.
Terl lifted his large amber eyes from the tome that rested minutely in his massive claws and looked around the room. He was suddenly aware of the effect he had produced, and it amused him. Anything to relieve the humdrum monotony of a ten-year* duty tour in this gods-abandoned mining camp, way out here on the edge of a minor galaxy.
In an even more professorial voice, already deep and roaring enough, Terl repeated his thought. "Man is an endangered species."
Char glowered at him. "What in the name of diseased crap are you reading?"
Terl did not much care for his tone. After all, Char was simply one of several mine managers, but Terl was chief of minesite security. "I didn't read it. I thought it."
"You must've got it from somewhere," growled Char. "What is that book?"
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