ate hands
were capable of leveling a tingler. "Don't say anything," he said to his
son in a low voice. Wilbur nodded dazedly.

"No whispering," barked the soprano, shining the light directly in his
eyes. "Now, are either of you married?"

Marcus sighed; so that was it. Poor Earth was in a bad way when a pudgy
unattractive clerk could get a high-salaried job solely because he was
male.

"Answer me," demanded the high unsteady voice. "Are either of you
married? On Earth, I mean."

Marcus could see her clearly, now that his eyes had become accustomed to
the light. She was young, barely out of her teens.

"What kind of question is that? When you're married, you're married. It
doesn't matter where you are." On Earth, apparently, it did.

"Outers," she exclaimed happily. "I've always hoped I'd find one.
They're real men. Now let's see, which one shall I take?" She flashed
the light on Wilbur, who squirmed and blinked.

"He's younger and will probably last longer," she said critically. "On
the other hand, he'll be clumsy and inexperienced."

She turned to Marcus. "You need a shave," she said crisply. "Your beard
is turning gray. I think I'll take you. Older men are nice."

"You can't have me," said Marcus. She was near and he could have taken
both the weapon and the light from her. But he couldn't stand, much less
walk, and there were other women in the background, all armed probably,
watching the girl who seemed to be their leader. "You see, I am married.
Wilma wouldn't like it, if I took another wife."

"Not even just for the time you're on Earth? It isn't much to ask." She
turned the light on herself. "Am I unattractive?"

She was not outstandingly beautiful, but since she was dressed as
scantily as law allowed and fashion decreed Marcus could see her
desirability. "How old are you?" he asked.

"Old enough," she said. "In eleven months, I'll be twenty-one."

"You're pretty," said Marcus. "If I were fifteen or twenty years
younger--and not married--I'd come courting."

"But you did," she said in amazement. "Why did you come down a dark
street, if you weren't looking for romance?"

* * * * *

This, it seemed, is what passed for romance on Earth. Men must be
outnumbered at least three to one. It tied in with what he had so far
observed. "I'm sorry for your trouble," he said.

"But you must remember that we're Outers. We're not familiar with your
customs. We were merely taking