"Nothing new. Remember me, Karl Mussdorf? I'm a convict, I am. A salt mine convict. I'd have done anything to get out of that boiling hell. I volunteered to go with you for the radium. Me and Gunn. Nichols doesn't count. He came on account of his wife and kids. We were the only two who'd come. Convicts, both of us."
Mussdorf drew air into his lungs until his ribs showed against the rips in his jacket.
He went on slowly, "All along I've thought that if we ever did discover radium in any quantity to cure the folks of space out of it. I want to be that somebody, Emerson. With my pardon and that profit, I could be a boss on Mars. And you know what it's like to be a boss on Mars."
Emerson writhed in his straps, wrenching and twisting until his muscles crackled, seeking freedom. His lips snarled oaths at the big criminal.
"If I ever get out of this, I'll teach you who's boss—right here!"
Mussdorf laughed his confidence, "Don't worry. You won't. Those straps are pretty secure. I'm lucky one of mine was ripped."
The big man turned to Gunn; looked down at him, curiously.
"You with me, Til?"
Gunn looked at Emerson; looked up at Mussdorf, nodding.