He jumped up.
Loring stuck his head inside the door. "You alone, Manning?" he asked.
"Yeah. Who're you?" asked Roger.
"My name's Loring, and this is my space buddy, Al Mason. We were on the
_Annie Jones_."
Roger's eyes lighted up. "Then you know I'm not responsible for the
crash!" said Roger.
"I wouldn't say that, kid," said Loring grimly. "I wouldn't say that at
all."
"What do you mean?" demanded Roger.
"A shame"--Loring shook his head--"young fella like you winding up on
the prison asteroid."
"Prison asteroid?" asked Roger stupidly.
"Yeah," grunted Loring. "Have you ever seen one of them joints, Manning?
They work from noon to midnight. Then they give you synthetic food to
eat, because it costs too much to haul up solid grub. Once you've been
on the prison rock, you can't ever blast off again. You're washed up as
a spaceman. Think you'll like that?"
"Why--why--what's that got to do with me?" asked Roger.
"Just this, kid. After the investigation they'll find out your
radarscope wasn't working right. Then they'll come to me and ask me what
happened aboard the _Annie Jones_.
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