"Oh, brother," said Drummond.
"Sounds like a psalm," suggested Angus.
"You ought to know. You always got your nose in that Bible."
"Notice anything peculiar about them?"
"Very funny," sneered Drummond at the question.
"No, I'm serious."
"They bounce the daylights out of you when they walk," Drummond grumbled.
"No. Their finish. It's shiny—like they were fresh out of the factory—not like they've been marooned here for a hundred years."
Drummond scratched his chin. "Maybe their compulsion is metal polishing."