houses. At right angles
to it, though, stretching out in front of him, was a colorful, crowded
avenue that appeared to be a major artery of the city. He glanced
tentatively in both directions, waited till a lull came in the steady
procession of tiny bullet-shaped automobiles flashing by, and hastily
jogged across the waterfront street and started down the avenue.

Maybe there was some kind of register of population at the City Hall.
If Steve still lived in this city, he could look him up that way. If
not----

Facing him were two rows of immense buildings, one on each side of the
street. Above every three blocks there was a lacy aerial passageway
connecting a building on one side of the street with one on the other,
high above the ground. Alan looked up and saw black dots--they looked
like ants, but they were people--making their way across the
flexi-bridges at dizzying altitudes.

The streets were crowded. Busy stern-faced people raced madly from one
place to the next; Alan was accustomed to the more orderly and peaceful
life of a starship, and found himself getting jostled by passersby from
both directions.

He was surprised to find the streets full of peddlers, weary-looking
little men trundling along behind small slow-moving self-powered
monocars full of vegetables and other produce. Every few moments one
would stop and hawk his wares. As Alan started hesitantly up the
endless-seeming street, one of the venders stopped virtually in front of
him and looked at him imploringly. He was a small untidy-looking man
with a dirty face and a red scar streaking his left cheek.

"Hey, boy." He spoke in a soft slurred voice. "Hey, boy. Got something
nice for you here."

Alan looked at him, puzzled. The vender reached into his cart and pulled
out a long yellow fruit with a small, thick green stem at one end. "Go
on, boy. Treat yourself to some of these. Guild-grown, fresh-ripened,
best there are. Half a credit for this one." He held it almost under
Alan's nose. "Go on," he said insistently.

Alan fished in his pocket and produced one of the half-credit pieces he
had been given in the Enclave commissary. For all he knew it was the
custom of this city for a new arrival to buy the first thing offered to
him by a vender; in any event, he was hungry, and it seemed that this
was the easiest way to get rid of the little man. He held out the coin.

"Here. I'll take it."

The vender handed the piece of fruit over and Alan accept