Prostho Plus by Piers Anthony

Trach showed him aboard a ship anchored on the surface. It hardly seemed possible that he had obtained his release so readily, yet here he was, out of the belly of the whale. Trach was certainly efficient!
    "This isn't an Enen ship," Dillingham observed. "Too small. Where's the crew?"
    "There is no crew," Trach said, closing the hatch.
    Dillingham realized abruptly that he was alone with a dinosaur—really alone. "But you said—"
    Trach walked by, his breath smelling of midsummer hay. "I'm going to Electrolus, and there is room for you aboard my ship, so I simplified the procedure by purchasing your contract myself. Wasn't that what you wanted?"
    Dillingham was hardly sure. The trachadon stood twelve feet tall without stretching and had an alarmingly powerful construction. The ridiculous jacket and bow-tie could not conceal the impervious hide beneath, or the rippling reptilian musculature. When he spoke, the jaws parted to reveal a ferocious array of teeth... but not far enough to enable Dillingham to determine whether they were the implements of a herbivore or a carnivore.
    "Take-off may be a trifle uncomfortable," Trach said. "Would you like me to strap you in?"
    The spare couch had enormous metallic bands for up to six limbs. The fastenings were far too heavy for Dillingham to manipulate himself; they were shackles that would hold him helpless, once clamped. "I—I'll try my luck without the straps," he said.
    "Fine. I never bother with them myself. Sometimes I get hungry in mid-manoeuvre, and they become inconvenient."
    Sometimes he got hungry... Dillingham wondered just what rights a contract granted the owner. Were the duckbills carnivorous? He couldn't remember. He gripped his bag of tools tightly, wishing he had something more sturdy than a slender dental sealer. But of course Trach was friendly. He was a reputable diplomat. He said.
    Trach braced his tail against the floor and manipulated controls. Suddenly there was a jolt that threw Dillingham to the floor. "Just a little finicky when she's warming up," the dinosaur remarked, "One of these missions I'm going to lease a modern ship. This one is apt to spring a leak in space any time now."
    Dillingham sat down abruptly on the couch and gripped a strap. Leak in space! Another jolt, and the ship was moving. Trach activated a screen, and the grey waves of the Gleep ocean appeared, rushing past at an astonishing rate. Then they were airborne, and the waves gave way to dank clouds.
    It became warm. "Do you have any temperature control for this ship?" Dillingham inquired sweating. "I think the speed is heating the—I mean, the atmospheric friction—"
    "Oh, there is some variation. We're reaching for escape velocity, after all. On this planet, in your terms, that's about twenty thousand knots. Nothing to worry about."
    Dillingham winced as the metal flooring became hot. "Well, I'm a fixed-temperature creature," he reminded the dinosaur apologetically.
    "Is this uncomfortable for you? I had forgotten." Trach obligingly turned on a frigid blast of air. "Good thing that device is operative now. Sometimes it gets stuck on HOT."
    Dillingham nodded, shivering, though the metal fastenings were still too hot to touch. He wondered how many other minor inconveniences this ship would produce. This was certainly a contrast to the precision equipment of the Enens.
    The ship shuddered and bucked, catapulting him across the burning floor. "That breaks us out of the atmosphere," Trach said nonchalantly. "Better stay on the couch, though. Sometimes it—"
    The dinosaur turned as he spoke, spied Dillingham far removed from the couch, and leaped for him. The enormous webbed hands caught him before he could scramble to safety. "Got you!" Trach grunted with satisfaction.
    Dillingham opened his mouth to scream, knowing it to be a thoroughly useless and effeminate gesture but unable to think of anything better. There had been foul pla—
    The ship seemed to turn inside out. There was a