"There you are, old man." Parker had located the switch and a musical purr came from the black box between the Martian's broad shoulders. "Now stand up and tell me what you're doing here. And what's the idea of the private ship? Come all the way from home in it?"
His friend struggled to his feet with an effort, for the field emanating from the black box required a few seconds to reach the intensity necessary to counteract two-thirds of the earth's gravity.
"Thanks Carr," he grinned. "Yes, I came all the way in that bus. Alone, too—and she's mine! What do you think of her?"
"A peach, from what I can see. But how come? Not using a private space-flier on your business trips, are you?"
"Not on your life! I've retired. Going to play around for a few years. That's why I bought the Nomad."
"Retired! Why Mado, I just did the same thing."
"Great stuff! They've worked you to death. What are you figuring on doing with yourself?"
Carr shrugged his shoulders resignedly. "Usual thing, I suppose. Travel aimlessly, and bore myself into old age. Nothing else to do. No kick out of life these days at all, Mado, even in chasing around from planet to planet. They're all the same."
