Joel was shocked and looked it.
Thorp's battered features cracked into a broad grin. "We're a rum bunch. None of us can afford to throw stones at the others."
Joel felt the rebuke in his words and reddened.
The spaceman had slumped in the seat and closed his eyes. The dull roar of the train had a soothing quality. But Joel was too keyed up to relax.
He kept thinking of the humanoid guard and the fluorescent tattoo mark on his elbow and Doctor Chedwick saying: "The less you know about them, the safer you'll be. Someone will contact you at Asgard. Don't mention our conversation to anyone...."
A buzzer began to whirr softly. The train braked. The guards rose and shouted,
"On your feet! On your feet! Line up in the aisle."
The train wooshed to a soft stop as if it had run into a foam rubber cushion. The doors slid back, letting in a thundering bedlam of sound.
Joel found himself staring out into a vast groined hall lit by harsh violet light. Streams of beetle-like robot trucks, piled high with baggage, darted along elevated roadways. People were everywhere, a crazy throng like a disturbed colony of ants.