"The engines?" he asked.
"Yes," agreed the Martian. "We're off. Your ships have been coated with the light blanket."
"Where are they?"
"They're following us. We've put prize crews aboard. It was a rich haul. Radium." He rubbed his hands together, laughed as if in anticipation of the orgy he would be able to indulge in with his share.
Norman winced. The Martians as a rule were a cosmopolitan and cultured people.
"Don't judge too harshly," said the Martian as if reading the young man's thoughts. "You'll look forward to the brief time between voyages, too. But I'm forgetting. My name's Koal. I was a space pilot before I was captured."
Norman introduced himself.
The Martian grinned, shook hands. "Come along, Earth man, and get your issue. Then I'll show you your quarters."
At length they came to a chamber deep within the bowels of the ship. A counter ran along the back wall. A wizened yellow eyed Mercurian took Norman's measure, piled four changes of the somber uniform on the counter. With quick cat-like movements he added a helmet and boots, slug gun and Dixon Ray rifle. Wide-eyed, Norman watched the pile grow. It was a very complete outfit by the time the Mercurian paused.
Staggering under the load Norman and Koal ascended to the sleeping quarters, paused before a stateroom.