toring clothes. She must
have put all of her things back into her bag. Hank grinned inwardly,
carefully folded his own pants and jacket over his suitcase before
climbing into the bunk.

"Don't snore, do you?" he said conversationally.

No answer.

"Or walk in your sleep?"

"You're not funny, Mr. Stevenson."

"That's what I like about this country," Hank said. "Progressive. Way
ahead of the West. Shucks, modesty is a reactionary capitalistic
anachronism. Shove 'em all into bed together, that's what I always
say." He laughed.

"Oh, shut up," Char said. But then she laughed, too. "Actually, I
suppose there's nothing wrong with it. We are rather Victorian about
such things in the States."

Hank groaned. "There you are. If a railroad company at home suggested
you spend the night in a compartment with a strange man, you'd sue
them. But here in the promised land it's O.K."

After a short silence Char said, "Hank, why do you dislike the Soviet
Union so much?"

"Why? Because I'm an American!"

She said so softly as to be almost inaudible, "I've known you for a
week now. Somehow you don't really seem to be the type who would make
that inadequate a statement."

Hank said "Look, Char. There's a cold war going on between the United
States and her allies and the Soviet complex. I'm on our side. It's
going to be one or the other."

"No it isn't, Hank. If it ever breaks out into hot war, it's going to
be both. That is, unless the extraterrestrials add some new elements
to the whole disgusting situation."

"Let's put it another way. Why are you so pro-Soviet?"

She raised herself on one elbow and scowled down over the edge of her
bunk at him. Inside, Hank turned over twice to see the unbound red
hair, the serious green eyes. Imagine looking at that face over the
breakfast table for the rest of your life. The hell with South
American senoritas.

Char said earnestly, "I'm not. Confound it, Hank, can't the world get
any further than this cowboys and Indians relationship between
nations? Our science and industry has finally developed to the point
where the world could be a paradise. We've solved all the problems of
production. We've conquered all the major diseases. We have the
wonders of eternity before us--and look at us."

"Tell that to the Russkies and their pals. They're out for the works."

"Well, haven't we been?"

"The United States isn't trying to take over the world."

"No? Possibly not in the old sense