With a jolt Norman realized that this was home for him, too. The massive entrance slid aside. The men poured out. Caught in the stream, he and Koal were carried to the runway and down to the floor of the spaceport. He looked around curiously.
The road led between two empty troughs. At least he thought they were empty, until he realized he couldn't see beyond them. Invisible ships lay in the troughs. Overhead a large pinkish sun flamed unnaturally.
"Come along," urged Koal. "You've the rest of your life for sight seeing." He led Norman outside the yards to a massive building.
"What's this?" asked the young man as they passed through the doors.
"Emigration. Here's where you'll be assigned living quarters."
A Mercurian ensconced behind a grill like a bank teller took his name and ship, handed him a slip of paper. On it was printed F12-D234. He looked at it blankly.
The Martian laughed, explained: "F12 is the building. Everyone from the Rocket lodges in the same building. D is the floor, two-thirty-four your apartment number."
"Oh."
The Martian laughed again, said "Come along. You'll get the hang of things soon enough."
They returned to the street, entered a many storied garage. Here Norman saw hundreds of surface cars parked row upon row. A ramp led up to the next level.