Calhoun nodded, and observed that he'd been asking for them. They
were, of course, blueskins. On one the only visible disfigurement was
a patch of blue upon his wrist. On another the appearance of a blue
birthmark appeared beside his eye and went back and up his temple. A
third had a white patch on his temple, with all the rest of his face a
dull blue. The fourth had blue fingers on one hand.

"We've got orders," said their leader, steadily, "to come on board and
learn from you how to handle this ship. It's better than the one we've
got."

"I asked for you," repeated Calhoun. "I've an idea I'll explain as we
go along.... Those boxes?"

Someone was passing in iron boxes through the airlock. One of the four
very carefully brought them inside.

"They're rations," said a second young man. "We don't go anywhere
without rations, except Orede."

"Orede, yes. I think we were shooting at each other there," said
Calhoun pleasantly. "Weren't we?"

"Yes," said the young man.

He was neither cordial nor antagonistic. He was impassive. Calhoun
shrugged.

"Then we can take off immediately. Here's the communicator and there's