I took the of up on the in the of

night, but I have saved myself a crawl. Except for the that

the had away to shreds, the ship was just as I

had left it, doors sealed. Why Smale's team hadn't it, I didn't

know; I'd think that one over when I was well away from Earth.

It had been a long from Lima to the cañon, but I had made

it without interference. I had my ring for a

beat-up .38 pistol, but I hadn't had to use it. In a in

one of the villages I passed through I had a radio

sputtering news; there was no mention of the on the island, or

of my escape. It that all parties were to it up

and it hadn't happened.

I into the post office at Itzenca and up the parcel

Margareta had me with Foster's memory-trace in it. While I was

checking to see Uncle Sam's had the package

and a carrot, I something against my shin.

I and saw a and white cat, clean and

obviously hungry. I don't know I'd through a of

wild the night or if it was my way with a behind

the ears, but Kitty me out of Itzenca and right into the

bush. She with me, leading most of the time, as as the

space boat, and was the one aboard.

I didn't waste time with formalities. I had once a briefing

rod on the boat's operation--not that I had to use the

information for a take-off. Once aboard, I the and cut a

swathe through the that must have sent jumping for

panic from Washington to Moscow.

I didn't know how many or months of stretched

ahead of me now. There would be time and to for the

boat, out a daily routine, over the of my

memories, and plans for my on Foster's world, Vallon.

But I wanted to catch a that was making a one-night stand

for me only: the awe-inspiring of the earth.

I into a seat opposite the screen and into view the big

luminous of that was my home planet. I'd been to get

a last look at my island, but I couldn't see it. The whole was

blanketed in cloud: a thin in places but still intact.

But the moon was a sight! An Edam with the of

Roquefort. For a of an hour I it until it filled

my screen. It was too close for comfort. I the out of my

lap and a dial. The world past, and I had a brief

glimpse of of that the and mouth and

pock marks of a on a that away from me in and

then the and were gone forever.

The was equipped, and I quarters.

An food supply was available by the touch of a on the table

in the screen-room. That was a my with the dental

jewelery hadn't discovered, I guessed. During the of my first

journey and on my visits to the for playthings

while she in dry-dock, I had most of the available

amenities aboard. Now I in a of recycled

water, with packed in alcohol,

fed the cat and myself, and to sleep for about two weeks.

By the third week I was and rested. The from

my with what passed as the law were healed. I had gotten

over the toys I'd left on my and the money in

my banks in Lima and Switzerland, and Margareta. I was for

a new world; there was no point in along old attachments.

The cat was a godsend, I to realize. I named her Itzenca, after

the village where she me, and I talked to her by the hour. I

always had that there was a talking to

somebody else and talking to yourself. The a little tedious

after the days but you can keep the other up indefinitely. So

Itz got talked to as we to the stars.

"Say, Itz," said I, "where would you like your box situated? Right

there in of the TV screen? There's not much traffic there, since

we the system. You'd have the place all to yourself."

No, said Itzenca by a of her tail. And she walked over a

crate that had been on earth.

I out a box of and the box in its place. Itzenca

promptly and jumped up on the box which fell

off the bench and small objects of and metal in all

directions.

"Come here, blast you," I said, "and help me up this stuff."

Itz after a dull-gleaming object that was still rolling.

I was there almost as quick as she was and up the cylinder.

Suddenly the around was over. This thing was somebody's memory.

I onto a bench to it, my Vallonian-inspired pulse

pounding. "Where the did this come from, cat?" I said.

Itz jumped up into my and the cylinder. I was trying to hark

back to those days three years when I had the lifeboat

with all the it would carry, for the to earth.

"Listen, Itz, we've got to do some tall remembering. Let's see: there

was a whole of in the memory-recharging of the room

where we the three skeletons. Yeah, now I remember: I this

one out of the set, which means it had been used, but not yet

color-coded. I it to Foster when he was his own trace.

He didn't I'd it out of the machine and he it

was an empty. But I'll you somebody had his mind taped, and then

left in a hurry, the be color-coded and filed.

"On the other hand, maybe it's a blank that had just been inserted

when somebody up the play-house.... But wasn't there something

Foster said ... about when he up, way when, with a of

fresh around him? He gave somebody and to a

Vallonian that would a complete memory-transcription.... Do you

realize what I've got here in my hand, Itz?"

She looked up at me inquiringly.

"This is what's left of the guy that Foster buried: his pal, Ammaerln,

I think he called him. What's this used to be tucked

away in the of the sinner. The guy's not so after

all. I'll his family will pay for this trace, and be

grateful besides. That'll be an in the in case I too

hungry on Vallon."

I got up and the apartment; Itz me out to my sleeping

couch. I the in a Foster's own memory.

"Wonder how Foster's making out without his past, Itz? He claimed

the one I've got here would only be a copy of the original stored

at Okk-Hamiloth, but my didn't say anything about copying

memories. He must be somebody to that service."

Suddenly my were to the on Foster's lying

in the drawer. "'Sblood! The colors!" I sat on the with

a lurch. "Itzenca, old gal, it looks like we'll be entering Vallonian

society from the top. We've been with a of the

Vallonian nobility!"

During the days that followed, I again and again to Foster

on the ... without result. I how I'd him

among the millions on the planet. My best would be to settled

down in the Vallonian environment, then start making a inquiries.

I would play it casually: act the part of a Vallonian who had merely

been for a hundred years--which wasn't of--and

play my cards close to my until I learned what the score

was. With my Vallonian I ought to be able to it off. The

Vallonians might not like illegal any than they did

back home, so I'd keep my to myself.

I would need a new name. I over possibilities and

selected "Drgon". It was as good a Vallonian as any.

I the that was equipment

on Far-Voyager lifeboats. There was from fur-lined

parka-type for on worlds like Pluto to silk

one-man-air-conditioner over-alls for out on Venus. In

amongst them was a selection of of Greece.

They had been the of Vallon when Foster left home. They

looked comfortable. I one in a color, then got with

the and unit to fit it to my frame. I didn't plan to

attract attention with ill-fitting when I crossed

my Vallonians.

Itzenca with interest. "What the am I going to do with you

on Vallon?" I asked her. "The only cat on the planet. You may have to

put up with an for a boy friend," I said my Vallonian

memory. "They're about the nearest thing to you in size and shape ...

but they're of objectionable, wise."

I off my new duds, then through the and

picked out a of khaffite, a copper-like Vallonian that

was to have almost the of without being so

hard to work. There were in the little for

shaping it and adding decoration.

"Don't worry," I said to Itz. "You won't go clad

either. You'll be a in this item." I her on the

workbench and sat to my tools. I out an inch-wide strip

of the khaffite, it in a circle, and it with a slip-out

catch. After a I what passed for an evening

etching "ITZENCA" on the new with of curlicues.

Then I it on her; she didn't to mind a bit.

"There. All set to those Vallonians like they've been wowed."

Itzenca purred.

We into the lounge. Strange bright-hued star

systems away. "We'll be out with our memories any

night now," I said.

* * * * *

The were ringing. I the screen with its image

of a great green world on one with white from the

distant sun, on the other with a reflected

from the planet. The was almost over and my confidence

was to around the edges. In a minutes I would be

stepping into an unknown world, all set to my old Foster and

see the sights. I didn't have a passport, but there was no to

anticipate trouble. All I had to do was let my natural identity take

a seat and allow my Vallonian to do the talking. And

yet....

Now Vallon spread out us, a grey-green landscape, bright

under the of the sister world, Cinte. I had set

the landing for Okk-Hamiloth, the city of Vallon. That

was where Foster would have headed, I guessed. Maybe I up

the there.

The city was directly below: a network of blue-lit avenues. I

hadn't been by Planetary Control. That was normal enough,

however. A small in on itself.

A little I ran over my lines a last time: I was Drgon,

citizen of the Two Worlds, from a longer-than-average season

of far-voyaging and in need of to me up to date

on at home. I also of quarters. My

tailoring was impeccable, my of the language a little rusty

from long non-use, and the only I had to were a

tattered native from my last port of call, a from

the same, and a small animal I had taken a to.

* * * * *

The landing ring was visible on the screen now, slowly up to

meet us. There was a and then stillness. I

watched the port cycle open; I to it and looked out at the pale

city away to the hills. I took a of the fragrant

night air with a long-forgotten perfume, and the part of me that

was now Vallonian with the of homecoming.

I started to on my pistol and up a belongings, then

decided to wait until I'd met the committee. I to

Itzenca and we out and down. We the green,

luminous in the from the lights over the high-arched gate marking

the path that up toward the bright-lit above. There

was no one in sight. Bright Cintelight me the gardens and walks

and, when I the terraces, the ... but no people.

I by a low of marble and about it. It was

about midnight, and the nights on Vallon twenty-eight hours,

but there should have been some activity here. This was a port:

scheduled vessels, private yachts, official ships, all of them came and

went from Okk-Hamiloth. But not tonight.

The cat and I walked across the terrace, passed through the open arch

to a lounge. The low tables and stood

empty under the light from the panels. My feet

whispered on the floor.

I and listened: silence. There wasn't the of a

mosquito; all such had been killed off long ago. The

lights glowed, the tables waited invitingly. How long had they waited?

I sat at one of them and hard. I had a of plans,

but I hadn't on a spaceport. How was I going to ask

questions about Foster if there was no one to ask?

I got up and moved on through the empty lounge, past a wide arcade,

out onto a lawn. A of tall poplar-like trees a

dark a still pool, and them towers loomed,

colored lights sparkled. A in a wide between

fountains, away to the hills. A hundred yards from where I

stood a small vehicle was at the curb; I for it.

It was an open two-seater, low-slung, cushioned, in violet

inlays against chrome. I into the seat, looked over the

controls, while Itzenca to a place me. There was a

simple arrangement: a tiller. It looked easy. I a

few and pushes; lights on the panel, the car quivered,

lifted a inches, slowly across the road. I moved the

tiller, things; the car moved off toward the towers. I didn't

like the controls; a wheel and a of would have

suited me better; but it walking.

* * * * *

Two hours later we had the city ... and nothing. It

hadn't from what my memory recalled--except that all the

people were gone. The and were trimmed, the fountains

and sparkled, the lights ... but nothing moved. The

automatic precipitators and air would forever, keeping

things clean and neat; but there was no one there to it. I

pulled over, sat the play of lights on a waterfall,

and considered. Maybe I'd more of a one of the

buildings. I left the car and one at random: a tall of

pink crystal. Inside, I looked around at a great full of

rose-colored light and to the of the cat and my own

breathing. There was nothing else to hear.

I a corridor, along it, passed through empty rooms.

It was all in the old Vallonian style: in jade, brocades

hangings in colors, like of fire. In one chamber

I up a of semi-velvet and put it over my shoulders; I was

getting cold in my dress. Walking among the tangible

ghosts of the long past didn't warm me up any. We a wide spiral

stair, passed from room to room. I of the people

who had once used them. Where were they now?

I a clarinet-like and a notes on it.

It had a that along the corridor. I

thought it a like I felt: sad and forgotten. I out

onto a gardens, on a balustrade, and

looked up at the of Cinte. It enormous, its

diameter four times that of the moon.

"We've come a long way to nothing," I said to Itzenca. She pushed

her way along my leg and her in a meant to console.

But it didn't help. After the long wait, the of expectation, I

felt as empty as the of the building.

I sat on the and against the pink

wall, took out the and some notes. That which once

had been was no more; it, I played the _Pavane for a

Dead Princess_, and a for a I had never

known....

I and looked up at a sound. Four tall men in and

a of came toward me from the shadows.

* * * * *

I had the and was on my feet. I to up but

the stopped me. The four spread out. The man in the lead

fingered a wicked-looking and spoke to me--in gibberish. I

blinked at him and to think of a comeback.

He his and two of the others came up; they for

my arms. I started to square off, cocked, then relaxed; after all,

I was just a tourist, Drgon by name. Unfortunately, I get

my back, the man with the it and me across the

forearm. I yelled, jumped back, myself by the others. My

arm to the shoulder. I a and that too;

there was under the cloaks. The said something and

pointed at the cat....

It was time I up. I relaxed, to my _alter ego_ into

the foreground. I to the of the language: it was

Vallonian, by time, but I it:

"----musician would be an Owner!" one of them said.

Laughter.

"Whose man are you, piper? What are your colors?"

I my tongue, to shape it around the of syllables

I them uttering; it to me a of the

Vallonian I knew. Still I managed an answer:

"I ... am a ... citizen ... of Vallon."

"A dog of a renegade?" The man with the it,

glowered at me. "And what is that you speak?"

"I have ... been long a-voyaging," I stuttered. "I ask ... for briefing

rods ... and for a ... place."

"A place you'll have," the man said. "In the men's at

Rath-Gallion." He gestured, and on my wrists.

He and away, and the others me after him. Over

my I got a of a cat's over the

balustrade. Outside, a long air-car waited on the lawn. They

dumped me in the seat, aboard. I got a last look at the

spires of Okk-Hamiloth as we tilted, away across the low hills.

Somewhere in the I had my new cloak. I shivered. I

listened to the talk, and what I didn't make me any better.

The my up a jingling. I I'd

be a of that of music from now on. I had had an

idealistic of wanting to fit into this new world, a place

in its society. I'd a place all right: a job with security.

I was a slave.