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Picking up hitch-hikers even in 2000 AD is risky business
He was standing at the side of the glassite super-highway, his arm half-raised, thumb pointed in the same direction as that of the approaching rocket car. Ordinarily Frederick Marden would have passed a hitch-hiker without stopping, but there was something in the bearing and appearance of this one that caused him to apply his brakes.
Marden opened the door next to the vacant seat beside him.
"Going my way?" he asked.
A pair of steady, unsmiling blue eyes looked him over. "Yeah."
"All right, then. Hop in."
The hitch-hiker took his time. He slid into the seat with casual deliberateness and slammed the car door shut. The rocket car got under way once more.
They rode in silence for half a mile or so. Finally Marden glanced questioningly at his companion's expressionless profile.
"Where are you headed for?" he asked.
"Dentonville." He spoke from the corner of his mouth, without turning his head.
"Oh, yes. That's the next town, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
Not very communicative, reflected Marden, noticing the rather ragged condition of the other's celo-lex clothing.
225
