tore both. It was rotten
meat, dead for some time, and then heated in preparation for eating.

The crackers that came with the soup were good; they had a nice salty
tang. I ordered more of those, with another glass of milk, and sat
back sipping slowly, trying to adjust to that smell, now that I
realized I'd probably find it anywhere I could find food.

After a while, I got my insides enough in order so that I could look
around a little and see the place, and the other people in it. That
was when I turned around and saw Larry sitting next to me.

He was beautiful. He _is_ beautiful. I know that's not what you're
supposed to say about a man, and he wouldn't like it, but I can only
say what I see, and of course that's partly a matter of my own
training and my own feelings about myself.

At home on the ship, I always wanted to cut off my hair, because it
was so black, and my skin was so white, and they didn't go together.
But they wouldn't let me; they liked it that way, I guess, but _I_
didn't. No child wants to feel like a freak, and nobody else had hair
like that, or dead-white colorless skin, either.

Then, when I went down there, and saw all the humans, I was still a
freak because I was so small.

Larry's small, too. Almost as small as I am. And he's all one color.
He has hair, of course, but it's so light, and his skin is so dark
(both from the sun, I found out), that he looks just about the same
lovely golden color all over. Or at least as much of him as showed
when I saw him that time, in the diner.

He was beautiful, and he was my size, and he didn't have ugly rough
skin or big heavy hands. I stared at him, and I felt like grabbing on
to him to make sure he didn't get away.

After a while I realized my mouth was half-open, and I was still
holding a cracker, and I remembered that this was very bad manners. I
put the cracker down and closed my mouth. He smiled. I didn't know if
he was laughing at the odd way I was acting, or just being friendly,
but I smiled back anyhow.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I mean, hello. How do you do, and I'm sorry if
I startled you. I shouldn't have been staring."

"_You_," I said, and meant to finish, _You were staring?_ But he went
right on talking, so that I couldn't finish.

"I don't know what else you can expect, if you go around looking like
that," he said.

"I'm sorry...." I started again.

"And you should be," he said sternly. "Anybody who walks into a place
like this