Panicking certainly helped no one. His own efforts to resist when people had been helping him out of the egg had lacked conviction, and eventually he'd stopped entirely, bearing the wait in the cell patiently, answering the questions the others asked without hesitation or pretence. Then, at least, he'd had Trass to keep him company, the wolf having an equally unpleasant experience with the goo.

'Improvements,' he says, echoing the word that interests him most. His rifle is currently stashed away, but it might be productive to see what can be improved with it — he knows the local guns are more effective than the one he has, even if he's reluctant to trade what's familiar to him. At any rate, he has about a hundred more questions. 'Such as the ones you are carrying, or are those freely available to all? Are there many others like you?'