"Have another banana," the vender repeated obstinately.

Alan looked around at the crowd. "I said I didn't want another banana,
and I _don't_ want one. Now get out of my way!"

No one moved. The vender and his monocar blocked the path.

"Get out of my way, I said." Alan balled the slimy banana peel up in his
hand and rammed it suddenly into the vender's face. "There. Chew on that
a while."

He shouldered his way past the spluttering fruit vender, and before
anyone in the crowd could say or do anything he was halfway down the
street, walking briskly. He lost himself in the passing stream of
pedestrians. It was easy to do, despite the conspicuous orange-and-blue
of his _Valhalla_ uniform. There were so many people.

He went on for two unmolested blocks, walking quickly without looking
back. Finally he decided he was safe. He glanced up at Rat. The little
extra-terrestrial was sitting patiently astride his shoulder, deep, as
usual, in some mysterious thoughts of his own.

"Rat?"

"What, Alan?"

"Why'd they do that? Why did those people act that way? I was a perfect
stranger. They had no business making trouble for me."

"That's precisely it--you _were_ a complete stranger. They don't love
you for it. You're 300 years old and still 17 at the same time. They
can't understand that. These people don't like starmen very much. The
people in this city aren't ever going to see the stars, Alan. Stars are
just faint specks of light that peek through the city haze at night.
They're terribly, terribly jealous of you--and this is the way they show
it."

"Jealous? But why? If they only knew what a starman's life is like, with
the Contraction and all! If they could only see what it is to leave your
home and never be able to go back----"

"They can't see it, Alan. All they can see is that you have the stars
and they don't. They resent it."

Alan shrugged. "Let them go to space, then, if they don't like it here.
No one's stopping them."

They walked on silently for a while. Alan continued to revolve the
incident in his mind. He realized he had a lot to learn about people,
particularly Earther people. He could handle himself pretty well aboard
ship, but down on Earth he was a rank greenhorn and he'd have to step
carefully.

He looked gloomily at the maze of streets before him and half-wished he
had stayed in the Enclave, where starmen belonged. But somewhere out
ahead of him was Steve. And somewhere, too, he might find