surprised.

"The meeting will open at eight o'clock tomorrow morning in the
auditorium. The Thakerns and the Margonians will now inform you as to
your quarters." There was a moment of flashing thought. "Dismissed."

* * *

At one second before eight o'clock the auditorium was empty. At eight
o'clock, ninety-eight human beings appeared in it; six on the stage, the
rest occupying the first few rows of seats.

"Good morning, everybody," Garlock said, pleasantly. "Everyone being
rested, fed, and having had some time in which to consider the changed
reality faced by us all, I hope and am inclined to believe that we can
attain friendship and accord. We will spend the next hour in becoming
acquainted with each other. We will walk around, not teleport. We will
meet each other physically, as well as mentally. We will learn each
other's forms of greeting and we will use them. This meeting is
adjourned until nine o'clock--or, rather, the meeting will begin then."

For several minutes no one moved. All blocks were locked at maximum.
Each Prime used only his eyes.

Physically, it was a scene of almost overpowering perfection. The men
were, without exception, handsome, strong, and magnificently male. The
women, from heroically-framed Fao Talaho up--or down?--to surprisingly
slender Mirea Mitala, all were arrestingly beautiful; breathtakingly
proportioned; spectacularly female.

Clothing varied from complete absence to almost complete coverage, with
a bewildering variety of intermediate conditions. Color was rampant.

* * *

Hair--or lack of it--was also an individual and highly variant matter.
Some of the women, like Belle and Fao, were content with one solid but
unnatural shade. One shaven head--Mirea Mitala's--was deeply tanned, but
unadorned, even though the rest of her body was almost covered by
precious stones. Another was decorated with geometrical and esoteric
designs in eye-searing colors. A third supported a structure--it could
not possibly be called a hat--of spun metal and gems.

Among the medium-and long-hairs there were two-, three-, and multi-toned
jobs galore. Some of the color-combinations were harmonious; some were
sharply contrasting, such as black and white; some looked as though
their wearers had used the most violently-clashing colors they could
find.

The prize-winner, however, was Therea of Thaker's enormous, inexplicable
mop; and it was that