Now, he thought, what? This was scarcely dinosaur country.
“Then everything’s jake,” he said with a visible return of his assurance. “We’ve straightened up and are flying right. Ishkabibble?”
“I want you to strafe the Ark, exercising car not to hurt any of the animals,” said old Dr. Garfield Gar.
Even as he spoke, there was a shimmering in the air next to him and a whining hum. The shimmering became the outline of a man—a tall man wearing silvery shorts and some sort of metalic hardness over his bronzed skin, with a heavy cloak thrown back from the shoulders.