along a
narrow peninsula which jutted into a sluggish gray sea. The peninsula's
landward side was contained by a high stone wall, pierced with gates and
guarded by sentries. Its largest building was the Arena, used once a
year for the Games. Near the Arena was a small cluster of government
buildings.

Barrent walked along the narrow streets, staring around him, trying to
get some idea of what his new home was like. The winding, unpaved roads
and dark, weatherbeaten houses stirred an elusive tag-end of memory in
him. He had seen a place like this on Earth, but he couldn't remember
anything about it. The recollection was as tantalizing as an itch; but
he couldn't locate its source.

Past the Arena, he came into the main business district of Tetrahyde.
Fascinated, he read the store signs: UNLICENSED DOCTOR--ABORTIONS
PERFORMED WHILE-U-WAIT. Further on, DISBARRED LAWYER. POLITICAL PULL!

This seemed vaguely wrong to Barrent. He walked further, past stores
advertising stolen goods, past a little shop that announced: MIND
READING! FULL STAFF OF SKRENNING MUTANTS! YOUR PAST ON EARTH REVEALED!

Barrent was tempted to go in. But he remembered that he hadn't any
money; and Omega seemed like the sort of place that put a high value on
money.

He turned down a side street, walked by several restaurants, and came to
a large building called THE POISON INSTITUTE (_Easy Terms. Up to 3 Years
to Pay. Satisfaction Guaranteed or Your Money Back_). Next door to it
was THE ASSASSIN'S GUILD, _Local 452_.

On the basis of the indoctrination talk on the prison ship, Barrent had
expected Omega to be dedicated to the rehabilitation of criminals. To
judge by the store signs, this simply wasn't so; or if it was,
rehabilitation took some very strange forms. He walked on more slowly,
deep in thought.

Then he noticed that people were moving out of his way. They glanced at
him and ducked in doorways and stores. An elderly woman took one look at
him and ran.

What was wrong? Could it be his prison uniform? No, the people of Omega
had seen many of those. What was it, then?

The street was almost deserted. A shopkeeper near him was hurriedly
swinging steel shutters over his display of fencing equipment.

"What's the matter?" Barrent asked him. "What's going on?"

"Are you out of your head?" the shopkeeper said. "It's Landing Day!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Landing Day!" the shopkeeper said. "The day the prison ship landed. Get
back to your