Before a huge building, the truck stopped. The end of the journey. Case hopped off, nodded his thanks for the lift and started walking.
Those three towers were at the edge of the city. Case made his way through a crowded square, turned down a fern-lined street and headed for them. From behind him a light breeze came, wafting a familiar aroma to his nostrils.
Cigarette smoke! But until now he had seen nobody smoking. Acting on impulse, Case drifted over to one side of the walk and bent as though to tie his shoe.
Men walked past. Case straightened up, got a look at the backs of their necks, and gasped. White—as white as his own skin. These were no inhabitants of this world, but men of his own kind!
There were three of them. And now, as they finished lighting up, they were talking plain Earth English with as little concern as though they were strolling down the street of any Earth city.
"By the time we get back, there ought to be news," one of the men said.
"Yeah. That last one should have brought them around."
The second voice was another surprise. It stirred memories. Somewhere, Case had heard that coarse tone before. He thought hard.
Sure, now he had it. Pete Engels, hotshot engineer cashiered out of the space fleet and turned adventurer bum. The other two men Case didn't know.