[When Miles finally pushes back out, he'll find himself rolled on his side, the herm and armsman kneeling next to him, one set of hands supporting his airway. Just in the corner of his vision is Fat Ninny placidly chewing a bit of grass he had determinedly uncovered from beneath the snow.]

... lobyte toxin... it happened to a few people on Kharas, actually. Best I can figure it was slow metabolizing. The others were clear in a couple of weeks, but I guess there was still a bit left.

[The bald lie in Bel's voice was made a little more believable by the distracted worry in their tone.]