niscent of a Theban palace. It turned out to be the local hotel.
Horton stopped on the threshold and handed them two of the tiny
Langkits, the little black memory banks in which the language of Mert
had been transcribed for their use by the Mapping Command. Travis
slipped his automatically into position behind his ear, but he felt no
need to know the language. This one was going to be tough. He glanced
at Dahlinger. The kid was wearing a stunned expression, too dulled
even to notice the pantalooned customer--first Merts they'd
seen--eyeing them fearfully from behind pillars as they passed.

Smell that gold, Travis remembered wistfully. Then, smell those
generators. Oh, he thought sinkingly, smell those generators. They
went silently on up to the room.

Travis stopped at the door as a thought struck him.

"Listen," he said cautiously, taking Horton by the arm, "haven't you
thought of this? Why don't we just take off and start all over, orbit
around for a couple of days, pick a good hour, and then come back
down. That way we'll be starting all--"

But Horton was gazing at him reproachfully.

"They have a word for that, Trav," he said ominously, "they call it
_vetching_. Worst crime a man can commit. Attempt to evade his stars.
Equivalent almost to falsifying a horoscope. No siree, boy, for that
they burn you very slowly. The first horoscope stands. All your
subsequent actions, according to them, date from the original. You'll
just be bearing out the first diagnosis. You'll be a vetcher."

"Um," Travis said. "If they feel that way, why the heck do they even
let us stay?"

"Shows you the way the system works. This is a bad day for everything.
Coming as well as going. They'd never think of asking you to start a
trip on a day like this. No matter who you are."

Travis collapsed into an old, vaguely Chippendale chair. His position
was not that of a man sitting, it was that of a man dropped from a
great height.

"Well," Horton said. "So it goes. And listen, Trav, there was nothing
I could do."

"Sure, Hort."

"I just want you to know I'm sorry. I know they've been kickin' you
around lately, and don't think I don't feel I owe you something. After
all, if you hadn't--"

"Easy," Travis said, glancing at Dahlinger. But the kid's ears perked.

"Well," H o r t o n murmured, "just so's you know. Anyways I still got
faith in you. And Unico will be in the same boat. If they get here
tonight. So think about it. Let me se