The unwounded survivor's eyes grew wide; he fell to his knees, clasped his hands together, and hobbled to Suzie. He stopped in front of her, looked at...his companion's rapidly healing body, and gibbering in an unknown language, bowed his head to the ground before her. He continued to gabber and soon the team discovered that the transceivers on their ears functioned as translators too.The wounded man's eyes fluttered open and looked around them. The gibbering from his companion became a torrent. I’m sorry, sir ... you were too late. Speak to Miss Jakobsen ... perhaps ... No?“Gentlemen and lady, I bid you adieu. Perhaps another time.”The TV screen disappeared and the bidders clustered around Miss Jakobsen. Her entourage bullied their way forward and the losers stepped back.The loser who dithered too long stepped up to grandfather, shook his hand, and said. “Perhaps, next time ... should such a prize again appear... ?”Grandfather said, “Certainly, Dario Antonio. Should another such a one. More

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