sed to be. I have been piloting for about three years now and
I'm almost twenty. Is that younger than usual?"

Jason opened his mouth--then laughed. "I suppose that all depends on
what planet you're from. Some places you would have trouble getting
licensed. But I'll bet things are different on Pyrrus. By their
standards you must rank as an old lady."

"Now you're making a joke," Meta said serenely as she fed a figure into
the calculator. "I've seen old ladies on some planets. They are wrinkled
and have gray hair. I don't know how old they are, I asked one but she
wouldn't tell me her age. But I'm sure they must be older than anyone on
Pyrrus, no one looks like that there."

"I don't mean old that way," Jason groped for the right word. "Not
old--but grown-up, mature. An adult."

"Everyone is grown-up," she answered. "At least soon after they leave
the wards. And they do that when they're six. My first child is
grown-up, and the second one would be, too, only he's dead. So I
_surely_ must be."

That seemed to settle the question for her, though Jason's thoughts
jumped with the alien concepts and background, inherent behind her
words.

* * * * *

Meta punched in the last setting, and the course tape began to chunk out
of the case. She turned her attention back to Jason. "I'm glad you're
aboard this trip, though I am sorry you are going to Pyrrus. But we'll
have lots of time to talk. There are so many things I want to find out
about other planets, and why people go around acting the way they do.
Not at all like home where you _know_ why people are doing things all
the time." She frowned over the tape for a moment, then turned her
attention back to Jason. "What is your home planet like?"

One after another the usual lies he told people came to his lips, and
were pushed away. Why bother lying to a girl who really didn't care if
you were serf or noble? To her there were only two kinds of people in
the galaxy--Pyrrans, and the rest. For the first time since he had fled
from Porgorstorsaand he found himself telling someone the truth of his
origin.

"My home planet? Just about the stuffiest, dullest, dead-end in the
universe. You can't believe the destructive decay of a planet that is
mainly agrarian, caste-conscious and completely satisfied with its own
boring existence. Not only is there no change--but no one _wants_
change. My father was a farmer, so I should have been a farmer too--if