, and yet each hour in those days was
long. I was very cautious; Beth and I kissed many times but I never
allowed myself to be moved as on that first time.

Sunday loomed larger and larger, closer and closer. I was a constant and
ever present guest. It was an elementary matter to get Beth to invite me
for Sunday dinner. The invitation came on Saturday night, and that night
when I came back to my room I called Ristal for the first time since we
had arrived.

"Tomorrow," I said into the _besnal_. "Early evening."

"Good."

That was all we said, but it was enough. Our frequency was too high to
be picked up. Still, we were taking no chances. Ristal knew precisely
what I meant and he would be ready.

I had the feeling that comes when a mission is about to be completed.
There was a feeling of tension, and yet for the first time in my career
I had a lowering of spirits that I could not explain.

The feeling persisted until late Sunday afternoon. Then I pushed it from
my mind. I dressed carefully, slipped the _besnal_ into my inner pocket,
and put my _del_ gun in my coat pocket.

"Take your coat off," Beth said when I came in. "You ought to know
there's no formality here."

"I'm really quite comfortable," I told her. "Am I late?"

"No. Just on time. Dad will be down in a moment."

He came down the stairs from his study while we were talking. He greeted
me warmly, and yet I felt that this time he was scrutinizing me. All
during the dinner his eyes were on me, weighing me. I felt what was
coming, and as we rose from the table it came.

"I hope you won't be offended, Marko," Copperd said. "But there are some
strange things about you. Do you ever shave?"

"No," I said. I looked out the window and saw it was growing darker.

"That's odd. And about your hair ... have you ever realized that every
strand of it grows in a different direction? You could never comb it.
Your skin is of an unusually fine texture. And when you reached for
something at the table I observed strange folds of skin between your
fingers. You are somehow not like the rest of us."

"Naturally," I said. It didn't matter now. It was dark enough.

"Why naturally?"

"Because," I told him, "I am a Venusian."

* * * * *

My tone was matter of fact. Yet they knew that I was not joking. Beth
was staring at me, a growing fear and horror in her eyes. Her father
seemed dazed by the revelation. I took the _del_ gun from my po