Brob

If only he had had a portable radio transceiver along, he could have called Brob at the instant things went awry.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

Brob swept an arm in a grand gesture which smashed the tea table.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

“Well, yes, I should imagine that that would be indicated,” Brob murmured and rumbled.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

Alex had a horrible vision of what would happen to the Victory if Brob tried to climb its rigging.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

To the sound of a lusty chanty, Brob, a spar firmly lashed to his massive body and carrying his implement, went on high, swung above the gunwale, and dropped into the waves.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

Brob fanned himself, as if the very thought made him feel faint.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

Turning about to see what was wrong, he spied Brob.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

At Mixumaxu spaceport, the Joneses bade Brob an affectionate farewell.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

Coming to the nearest vessel, Brob trod water while he whirled his hook at the end of a long chain.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000

Having delivered a cargo to Earth, Brob found himself unable to get another, and the waiting time while his broker searched for one grew lonely as well as long.

Hokas Pokas Anderson, Poul 2000