their own planet to their neighbors in this solar
system. But it was a long-range ship with greater cruising power than
the other flyer he had seen. And it was being readied now for a voyage
of some length.

The Terran pilot squatted down on the small stool before the controls.
Before him a visa plate provided a clear view of the sky without and
the gathering clouds of evening. Raf shifted uncomfortably. That
signal of the passing of time triggered his impatience to be
away--back to the _RS 10_. He did not want to spend the night in this
city. Somehow he must get the officer to take him back to the
flitter--to be there would be better than shut up in one of the alien
dwellings.

Meanwhile he studied the scene on the visa plate, trying to find the
roof on which they had left the flitter. But there was no point he was
able to recognize.

Raf turned to the officer and tried to make clear the idea of
returning to his own ship. Either he was not as clever at the sign
language as the other, or the alien did not wish to understand. For
when they left the control cabin, it was only to make an inspection
tour of the other parts of the globe, including the space which held
the motors of the craft and which, at another time, would have kept
Raf fascinated for hours.

In the end the Terran broke away and climbed down the thread of ladder
to stand on the roof under the twilight sky. Slowly he walked about
the broad expanse of the platform, attempting to pick out some
landmark. The central building of the city loomed high, and there were
any number of towers about it. But which was the one that guarded the
roof where the flitter rested? Raf's determination to get back to his
ship was a driving force.

The alien officer had watched him, and now a three-fingered hand was
laid on Raf's sleeve while its owner looked into Raf's face and
mouthed a trilling question.

Without much hope the pilot sketched the set of gestures he had used
before. And he was surprised when the other led the way down into the
building. This time they did not go back to the bridge, which had
brought them across the canyons of streets, but kept on down ramps
within the building.

There was a hum of activity in the place. Aliens, all in tight black
wrappings and burnished metal breastplates, their faces barred with
black and white paint, went on errands through the halls or labored at
tasks Raf could not understand. It now seemed as if his guide were
eag