"Golly, what'll we do with all the room?" Prochaska broke in humorously. He flicked his eyes around the cabin. "Just imagine, we'll be able to sleep stretched out instead of doubled up in a bucket seat."
Larkwell took up the conversation and they listened while he outlined the step-by-step procedure. It was his show and they gave him full stage. He suggested they might be able to use one of Aztec's now useless servo motors in the task. When he finished, Crag glanced down at the Bandit crewman. Pale blue eyes stared back at him. Ice-blue, calm, yet tinged with mockery. They exchanged a long look.
"Feel better?" Crag finally asked, wondering if by any chance he spoke English.
"Yes, thank you." The voice held the barest suggestion of an accent.
"We brought you to our ship ..." Crag stopped, wondering how to proceed. After all the man was an enemy. A dangerous one at that.
"So I see." The voice was laconic. "Why?"
"We're human," snapped Crag brutally. The pale blue eyes regarded him intently.
"I'm Adam Crag, Commander," he added. The Bandit crewman tried to push himself up on his elbow. His face blanched and he fell back.
"I seem to be a trifle weak," he apologized. He looked at the circle of faces before his eyes settled back on Crag. "My name is Richter. Otto Richter."
Prochaska said, "That's a German name."