Raymond Largo was not a tall man but he was a large one. His shoulders were broad. His stomach ample. The wild black curls atop his head and the two feet of beard below his chin only added to the appearance that he filled more space than the average fellow. Yet he was clearly smaller than his shipmate. The Atlantean was at least seven feet tall and gangly. Neither of them looked happy to see me.
Largo said, “We picked you up up more from curiosity than because we’re good natured. If you want to stay you’ll need to hold your weight. No body rides for free.”
I gave him a hard stare.
He shook his head. He said, “We won’t be asking that of you. I’ve got a wife and Al, well, Al’s a fish.”