"Do you know what the root is or what drug it contains?" I said.
"No," Lobo said, "though from what we've seen it almost certainly includes an amphetamine of some sort."
"I did notice that," I said. "I was simply curious how addictive it was."
"And that matters why?"
I shook my head slowly. "It doesn't, not really, not now. If we end up going with Lim, we'll learn whatever we need to know."
"If?"
I stood and slitted my eyes. "Lights, please." Lobo's front area snapped into bright relief. I slowly opened my eyes the rest of the way. "I've been letting these holos affect me too much, making too many assumptions in advance of hard data. I'm trying to be more measured. That's all." Before Lobo could comment, I added, "What's happening with the jump queue?"
"We're third in line on our side when the stationmaster AI lets civilian ships start moving again. Estimate for that is still half an hour."
I paced back and forth, more tired than I had any right to be, tense, angry, and unable to shake the effects of what I'd seen. It had been a long day, but I've had many longer that had left me less fatigued.
Why was I fighting sleep? I had nothing else I needed to do until we were in orbit around Macken, and Lobo could easily take us there without my help.
I left the front and headed to the small room I use as my quarters. The door opened as I approached it. I practically dived onto my cot.
"How long to Macken?"
"Assuming a couple of counter-surveillance runs along the way and typical jump-gate times, about twelve hours."
"Perfect. Wake me when we're pulling away from its gate."
"Nothing leaves me feeling more fulfilled," Lobo said, "than acting as your alarm clock."
I was too tired to argue with him. "Shut me in, and get the lights."
My fatigue—or maybe my bad emotional state—must have been obvious, because without further commentary Lobo closed the door and snapped off the lights.
Blackness enveloped me again. I surrendered to it and was asleep in seconds.