rd knew that the other natives were being as persuasive
with the rest of the crew. And the temptation was very real: to trade the
energetic, competitive, exhausting routine that he knew for the quiet
peace and relaxation here.

As the days passed the rigid scheduling of exploratory activities, always
practiced by a trade mission, began to break down. The charming savages of
this new world put no monetary value on time, and something of their spirit
began to infect Lord's crew. They stopped bucking for overtime; most of
them applied for accumulated sick leave--so they could walk in the forest
with the native women, or swim in the forest pools. Even Lord found time
to relax.

One afternoon, after a swim with Niaga, they lay in the warm sun on the
grassy bank of a stream. Niaga picked a blue, delicately scented water
lily, and gently worked it into his hair. Slowly she bent her face close
until her lips brushed his cheek.

"Must you really go away when the treaty is made?"

"I'm a Lord, Niaga."

"Does that matter? If you like it here--"

"Niaga, I wish--I wish--" He shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

"Why is it so important for you to build your trade cities?"

As he sought for words to answer her question, the spell of her presence
was broken. He saw her for what she was: an extremely beautiful woman,
sensuously very lovely, yet nonetheless a primitive--a forlorn child
without any conception of the meaning of civilization. "We keep our union
of planets economically sound," he explained patiently, "and at peace by
constantly expanding--"

"I have visited the schoolroom your teacher has put up beside the ship. I
have seen her models of the many machines your people know how to build.
But why do you do it, Martin Lord?"

"The machines make our lives easier and more comfortable; they--"

"More comfortable than this?" She gestured toward the stream and the
cultivated forest.

"Your world moves at the pace of a walk, Niaga; with our machines, you
could rise above your trees, reach your destination in minutes--when now
it takes you days."

"And miss all the beauty on the way. What point is there in saving
time, and losing so much that really matters? Do your machines give you
anything--you as a person, Martin Lord--that you couldn't have here
without them?"

* * * * *

The question was unanswerable. It symbolized the enormous gulf that lay
between Niaga and himself. More than th