Publisher's Synopsis
"My God!" He stood staring, his hands on his hips. Peterson was walking along the path, his face red, leading it by a string. "I'm sorry, Captain," he said, tugging at the string. Franco walked toward him. "What is it?" The wub stood sagging, its great body settling slowly. It was sitting down, its eyes half shut. A few flies buzzed about its flank, and it switched its tail. It sat. There was silence.