“Any idea where we are, Ginger?  Aside from somewhere on Rakal?”

“Low-elevation tropics,” Ginger replied as she pulled the now alcohol-soaked jacket free of the vines and began working at Kelty’s jumpsuit.  “Rub the jacket over exposed skin if the insects get too bad–I’ll make some proper repellent with baby oil added later, but for right now a crude alcohol extract of jacket will help.”

“What exactly do you have in that reader?” asked Audi, as she came up beside Ginger.

“Everything that was in the courier’s library about Rakal and emergency medicine,” Ginger replied.

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