eating noisily, boisterously, with all the lusty, unclean young life
that was Venus. They clamored, banged and threw things for no reason
other than to throw them.

She guided the little one past the tables filled with people and into
the kitchen. The door closed with a bang, shutting out much of the noise
from the big room. Gingerly she sat him down on a stool, and with
detergent and water she began removing the mud. His eyes were horribly
red-rimmed.

"It's a wonder you didn't die out there," she murmured. "Poor little
thing!"

"Hey! Are you going to work or aren't you, Jane?" a voice boomed.

A large ruddy man in white had entered the kitchen and he stood frowning
at the girl. Women weren't rare on Venus, and she was only a waitress ...

"What in the blue blazes is that!" He pointed to the child.

"He was outside," the girl explained, "sitting in the street. He didn't
have a respirator."

The ruddy man scowled at the boy speculatively. "His lungs all right?"

"He isn't coughing much," she replied.

"But what are you going to do with him?" the man asked Jane.

"I don't know," she said. "Something. Tell the Patrol about him, I
guess."

The beefy man hesitated. "It's been a long time since I've seen a kid
this young on Venus. They always ship 'em home. Could have been dumped.
Maybe his parents left him on purpose."

The girl flinched.

He grunted disgustedly, his face mirroring his thoughts. _Stringy hair
... plain face ... and soft as Venus slime clear through!_ He shrugged.
"Anyway, he's got to eat." He looked at the small figure. "Want to eat,
kid? Would you like a glass of milk?" He opened a refrigerator, took out
a plastic bottle and poured milk in a glass.

Chubby hands reached out for the glass.

"There, that's better," the cook said. "Pete will see that you get fed
all right." He turned to the girl. "Could he belong to someone around
here?"

Jane shook her head. "I don't know. I've never seen him before."

"Well, he can stay in the kitchen while you work the shift. I'll watch
him."

She nodded, took an apron down from a hook and tied it around her waist.
Then she patted the sober-faced youngster on his tousled head and left.

The beefy man studied the boy. "I think I'll put you over there," he
said. He lifted him, stool and all, and carried him across the kitchen.
"You can watch through that panel. See? That's Jane in there. She'll
come back and forth, pass right by here. Is that all righ