Captain Jellico was
in his quarters two levels above, Medic Tau was presumably overhauling
his supplies, and Sindbad, ship's cat, asleep in some empty cabin.
Dane jerked his tunic into place, very much on his guard as he came to
the head of the ramp. But it was not the supervisor-rigger. Dane,
thoroughly used to unusual-appearing strangers, both human and alien,
was impressed by this visitor.
He was tall, this quiet man, his great height accented by a fit
leanness, a narrowness of waist and hip, a length of leg and arm. His
main article of clothing was the universal shorts of the Xecho settler.
But, being fashioned of saffron yellow, they were the more brilliant
because of his darkness of skin. For he was not the warm brown of the
Terran Negroes Dane had served beside, though he shared their general
features. His flesh was really black, black with an almost bluish sheen.
Instead of shirt or tunic, his deep chest was crossed by two wide
straps, the big medallion marking their intersection giving forth
flashes of gem fire when he breathed. He wore at his belt not the
standard stun gun of a spaceman, but a weapon which resembled the more
deadly Patrol blaster, as well as a long knife housed in a jeweled and
fringed sheath.
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