The Captain smiled. "You haven't heard the half of it," he said, winking, and the guard guffawed.
"All right, all right," Samson growled irritably. "If we're going, let's go."
"Patience, friend," the blond Captain admonished. "Right this way now, that's right, through the airlock, take your seats as I call them off. Dunlop, one; Samson, two; Austen, three...."
Arthur filed silently into the spaceship, Samson and Julie and the others behind him. He took a seat and looked around.
He cried out at what he saw, and then Samson's hands were upon his neck, squeezing with the fury of a man possessed by one thought. He felt his breath being cut off, the room darken. They fell into the aisle. He could hear shouts of vengeance around him, and he thought he heard Julie's frantic voice telling them to stop. Julie—
The airlock clanged with awful finality, and there was a sickening rush as the spaceship darted aloft. Uncushioned bodies flew, and Arthur felt the pressure on his throat ease.
He blinked open his eyes, forced himself erect. The blond Captain was bending over him. "You okay?"
"Still alive, George," he said, massaging his throat, "but I think we'd better tell them before I need a new head."
"George?" Julie said, puzzled. "You two know each other?"
"We were in the war together," the Captain said.