Stay in your boats,” Data said. “We’re still going to need food. Throw your fish onto the dock. I’ll get Albert to send someone here to collect it. Then go back out, row up the coast a little ways, and camp out.”“Camp out?” Quinn echoed.“Yes!”“You’re serious.”“No, it’s my idea of a joke, Quinn,” Data snapped. “Rookie just coughed up a lung and fell over dead. You understand what I’m saying? I mean he coughed his actual lungs out of his mouth.
— Michael Grant
Plague
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