A sail meant something sort of similar to us.
Similar enough that we had a chance of achieving communication.
A contact team? My soul thrilled and trembled. I’d seen them first, they couldn’t make me go back inside! I’d aced the First Contact training.
“Security First McGowan requests that you remain outside,” Bakula continued.
My eyes remained focused on the growing square of red-and-white striped sail. “You couldn’t pull me away with a tow chain,” I muttered.
Bakula chuckled. “I’ll relay that verbatim, if you like?”
I shook myself. “No! I’m sorry, that’s a yes. Tell McGowan yes, I’ll be here.”
Bakula’s voice dropped. “Keep your cool, Redding. They’ll need twenty minutes to get everyone suited up and outside. McGowan said something about putting you on the team. Don’t blow it.”
I
