The debarkation of the space freighter from Earth was in full swing. Passengers pressed out onto the landing platforms carrying luggage.
“These immigrant freighters certainly crowd them in,” one of the watching men said.
The big man replied: “That’s why they call them freighters. They handle human cargoes.”
All three watched as a pretty girl passed by, carrying a suitcase. She had red-gold hair, a firm, lithe body.
The big man watched her speculatively. Then he nodded. “She’ll do,” he said. “Pick her up and bring her to my apartment.”
And from that moment, Evana Travis was doomed…
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