e, if on this planet one is not
permitted to express one's instinctive and natural admiration for a
beautiful woman, then all I have to say is that it is a lousy
planet and I wiggle my toes at it. How do I go about getting
deported?_

_Impatiently yours,_

_Rajois Sludd_

"Oh, I suppose it serves him right," Tarb said quickly, before Stet
could comment, "but don't you think it would be a good idea if the
_Times_ got up a Fizbian-Terrestrial handbook of its own? It's the only
solution that I can see. The regular one, I recognize now, is more than
inadequate, with all that spiritual gup--" Miss Snow drew in her breath
sharply--"and not much else. All these problems are bound to arise again
and again. Frankly speaking, Stet, your solutions only take care of the
individual cases; they don't establish a sound intercultural basis."

He grunted.

"What's more," she went on eagerly, "we could not only give copies to
every Fizbian planning to visit Earth, but also print copies in Terran
for Terrestrials who are interested in learning more about Fizbus and
the Fizbians. In fact, all Terrans who come in contact with us should
have the book. It would help both races to understand each other so much
better and--"

"Unnecessary!" Stet snapped, so violently that she stopped with her
mouth open. "The standard handbook is more than adequate. Whatever
limitations it may have are deliberate. Setting down in cold print all
that ... stuff you want to have included would make a point of things we
prefer not to stress. I wouldn't want to have the Terrestrials humor me
as if I were a fledgling or a foreigner."

He leaped out of his chair and paced up and down the office. One would
think he had forgotten he ever could fly.

"But you are a foreigner, Stet," Tarb said gently. "No matter what you
do or say, Terrestrials and Fizbians are--well, worlds apart."

"Spiritually, I am much closer to the Terrestrials than--but you
wouldn't understand." He and Miss Snow nodded sympathetically at each
other. "And you might be interested to know that I happen to be the
author of all that 'spiritual gup.' I wrote the handbook--as a service
to Fizbus, I might point out. I wasn't paid for it."

"Oh, dear!" Tarb said. "Oh, _dear_! I really and truly am sorry, Stet."

He brushed her apologies aside. "Answer that letter. Ignore the question
about deportation entirely." He ran a foot through his crest. "Just tell
the fell