n to master
his hate reaction, he felt the stirrings of curiosity.

He became visible.

After a mile or so, she must have heard his breathing. The car was on
automatic, following the guide beam on the center of the lane. She
turned. She studied him for a long moment with beautiful grey eyes.

"Hello, where did you come from?"

Walt moved his lips.

The girl was sizing him up carefully. She seemed to like what she saw.
She nodded. "You got on back there? I didn't see you."

Walt stared at her.

"You wanted a lift, that's it, isn't it?"

Walt said nothing. She wore soft perfume. If I did not hate her so
much ... he thought.

"You deaf and dumb."

"... no. No."

She pulled the car into a clear-lane niche.

She regarded him. "Not bad.... Get up front."

He obeyed her. She started the car again.

"I'm Walt Johnson."

"Where are you going, Walt Johnson?"

"This ... down this way." The emotions were almost out of control with
excitement. His thoughts were becoming powerful and diffuse.

_You let her alone!_ Julia ordered.

It was like a slap. He quickly dampened his thoughts. Hatred returned.

The driver of the car chewed gum reflectively, watching him. She
twitched nervously closer.

She saw his eyes. She stopped chewing gum. Perhaps she saw the hatred.
She was trembling, suddenly. "You...." She drew the car into a niche
again. "You better get out here."

Walt was angry. No killing, no killing, he told himself. He controlled
his hands. He forced himself to open the door and get out.

"Somebody'll give you a ride," the girl said.

The car moved away, gaining speed quickly....

An orchard lay behind him. Cars passed more slowly now that the desert
was to the east.

Walt began to walk.

He thought: Forential told us a while ago there was a destructive war in
progress. It doesn't seem like there's a war. I haven't seen any signs
of it. It's peaceful. I wonder what he meant?

Within a few minutes, a car drew along side of him.

"I'm Walt Johnson. I'm going down the road."

"Get in, then."

Walt got in.

_Hello, Julia_, he thought. _I want to see you, Julia._

CHAPTER VI

In the space station, Forential sat in his cubicle in mental conference
with the other aliens. Behind their flow of thoughts was the
unreferred-to but ever-present fear for their own lives. Cowardice was
taken for granted; it was so deeply a part of their own culture (if it
wasn't somehow a racial characteristi