so nice, I'll admit, but after that you're
just sailing free. What are you going to be when you grow up?"

They had his future all planned for him, but he knew that he wasn't
going to be any of the things they wanted him to be.

He said boldly, "A space explorer."

She laughed. "You youngsters are all alike inside, no matter how
different you seem. My boy was the same way when he was young. But he
got over it. A space explorer, no less!"

* * * * *

Plato didn't answer. It was only a half hour's trip, and the conductor
was walking down the aisle. Plato found it difficult to take his eyes
off him. He was afraid that the man would take a look at his ticket,
say, "Wrong plane, son," and turn him over to the stationmaster at Space
Junction, to be shipped back.

In his nervousness, Plato had difficulty getting his ticket out of his
pocket. As he had expected, the conductor said, "You're on the wrong
flight."

The motherly woman exclaimed, "Oh, isn't that a shame! Are they waiting
for you in Venusberg?"

Plato said tearfully, "Yes, ma'am." The tearfulness wasn't hard to
manage; he'd learned the trick at school.

"That's too bad. How are you going to get there?"

"I don't know. I had just enough money to pay for this ticket."

"Doesn't the company correct mistakes, Conductor?"

"Not mistakes the passengers make," said the conductor sourly. "I'm
sorry, boy, I'll have to take that ticket."

The woman's eyes flashed and, as the conductor moved on, she said, "The
nasty thing. They have no consideration at all. Look, child." For a
moment Plato thought she was going to offer him flight fare from Space
Junction to Venusberg, but she was not, he discovered, as motherly as
that. "You know what you'll do when you get off? Send a 'gram, collect,
to your people in Venusberg. They'll wire you your fare. And you'll
reach them in a couple of hours."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, not feeling thankful at all. So it was all
right to be sympathetic, he thought indignantly, up to the point where
sympathy might cost her money. Like most people, she was free-handed
only with advice.

Who wanted advice?

* * * * *

At Space Junction he waved her a shy farewell, and then turned and
disappeared into the station crowd.

At the takeoff grounds, his heart sank. As he might have expected, the
entrance to the space tarmac was well guarded. How was he going to
become a sto