She was clad in a short green coat with exaggerated square-cut shoulders, and for one shocked moment Joel thought that she didn't have on anything beneath it. Then he realized that she must be wearing shorts which the coat was just long enough to hide.
For the rest, he received a swift impression of long shapely tanned legs, sooty lashes, green eyes and hair. Green hair!
Then their eyes met—met and held. There was a swift outleaping of spirit between them, an indescribable feeling of kinship, of recognition. Joel felt shaken, bewitched. A smile was trembling on the girl's half-parted lips.
And then he had been carried into the ship and he couldn't see her any longer.
"Who were they?" he asked unsteadily.
"Humphrey Cameron, Governor of Asgard," Thorp explained. "The girl was his daughter, Priscilla Cameron."
Tamis Ravitz said over her shoulder, "Did you see that hair? Green! She's been the talk of Terra."
Joel thought the dancer sounded envious. They were shuffling single file down a long corridor that led straight into the bowels of the ship. A vague rumbling made the deck tremble beneath his feet. He heard shouted orders, the sound of the gangplank being run in.
His face whitened in the raw violet light. All thoughts of the green haired Priscilla Cameron were driven from his mind.
From the passage the prisoners were herded into a long low chamber outfitted with tables. Here they were unchained.