* * * * *




5


It seemed that the smell of hunger was in the air. The armed men were
emaciated. Lights came on, and stark, harsh shadows lay black upon the
ground. Calhoun's captors were uniformed, but the uniforms hung
loosely upon them. Where the lights struck upon their faces, their
cheeks were hollow. They were cadaverous. And there were the splotches
of pigment of which Calhoun had heard.

The man nearest the Med Ship's port had a monstrous, irregular
dull-blue marking over half of one side of his face and up upon his
forehead. The man next to him had a blue throat. The next man again
was less marked, but his left ear was blue and there was what seemed a
splashing of the same color on the skin under his hair.

The leader of the truculent group--it might have been a firing
squad--made an imperious gesture with his hand. It was blue, except
for two fingers which in the glaring illumination seemed whiter than
white.

"Out!" said that man savagely. "We're taking over your stock of food.
You'll get your share of it, like everybody else, but--"