Explore "Wreckers of the Star Patrol" by Malcolm Jameson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
HE WAS damned, but not in the way he meant. All the alarm bells in his nervous system began jangling, warning as Fennery held out a paper for him to sign. It was a receipt for the _Hyperion,_ in good repair, fully loaded and cleared for the void. Fennery insisted it was but a formality.
-"Sure," said Hartwell shortly, and brushed by into the port. He wanted to have a look around before he signed anything. Things might be all right. Or they might not.