The Colors of Space

"Well, well, you're right," Vorongil growled. He glared at Bart. "On the

last planet, one of our men disappeared. Jumped ship!" The creases

around his eyes deepened, troubled. "Probably just gone on the drift,

sight-seeing, but I wish he'd told me. As it is, I wonder if he's been

hurt, killed, kidnaped."

Ringg said, "Who'd dare? It would be reported."

Bart knew, with a cold chill, that the missing Klanerol had not simply

gone "on the drift." No Lhari port would ever see Klanerol, Second Class

Astrogator, again.

"Bartol," mused the captain, riffling the forged papers. "Served on the

Polaris run. Hm--you are a good long way off your orbit, aren't you?

Never been out that way myself. All right, I'll take you on. You can do

system programming? Good. Rating in Second Galaxy mathematics?"

He nodded, hauled out a sheet of thin, wax-coated fabric and his claws

made rapid imprints in the surface. He passed it to Bart, pointed. Bart

hesitated, and Vorongil said impatiently, "Standard agreement, no hidden

clauses. Put your mark on it, feathertop."

Bart realized it was something like a fingerprint they wanted. You'll

pass anything but X-rays. He pressed the top of one claw into the wax.

Vorongil nodded, shoved it on a shelf without looking at it.

"So much for that," said Ringg, laughing, as they came out. "The Bald

One was in a good temper. I'm going to the port and celebrate, not that

this dim place is very festive. You?"

"I--I think I'll stay aboard."

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be down there somewhere," Ringg

said. "See you later, shipmate." He raised his closed fist in farewell,

and went.

Bart stood in the corridor, feeling astounded and strange. He belonged

here! He had a right to be on board the ship! He wasn't quite sure what

to do next.

A Lhari, as short and fat as a Lhari could possibly be and still be a

Lhari, came or rather waddled out of the captain's office. He saw Bartol

and called, "Are you the new First Class? I'm Rugel, coordinator."

Rugel had a huge cleft darkish scar across his lip, and there were two

bands on his cloak. He was completely bald, and he puffed when he

walked. "Vorongil asked me to show you around. You'll share quarters

with Ringg--no sense shifting another man. Come down and see the chart

rooms--or do you want to leave your kit in your cabin first?"