ng to eat this morning? I'd hate to see you in Wortan
without a good meal in you. But I suppose it really wouldn't help,
anyway. Coming, Earthsmith?"

There weren't any people out in the hall this early, and Smith breathed
more easily when they moved in a direction opposite that of Geria's
room. Soon they had descended a score of levels, and the moving ramp
became more crowded. Smith tried to ignore the eager hum of
conversation, but it was all around him. He realized he should be
feeling that way too. But you couldn't drum up a student's eager
appetite within yourself, not when you didn't feel that way, not when
your entire planet waited to see how you made out here and you felt
unsure of yourself, even in such simple things as eating.

That part of it at least turned out better than Smith had hoped. There
were eggs, and while he was sure he would not recognize the fowl if he
saw it, he could at least order his over-light and get something
familiar. And there were long strips of fatty meat which almost could
have been bacon, except Smith was sure the pig wouldn't be a pig at all.

And Smith was lost in the hordes of white men, green men, purple, orange
and brown, and no one paid him too much attention. Jorak busied himself
remembering old times with a gruff burly orange man named Kard, whose
planet was Shilon, and Smith ate in silence. Once he thought he saw
Geria far off at another table, but it could have been his imagination,
and when he looked again she was gone.

Home, Smith always had been a quick eater, but now he found himself
pawing at his food. Soon the great dining room began to clear. Jorak and
Kard leaned back in their chairs, watching Smith.

Jorak yawned. "How long does it take you to breakfast?"

"Different rate of digestion on Earth," Kard suggested.

"Don't be foolish. Earthsmith's in no hurry to attend his first class,
so he's loafing. Right, Earthsmith?"

Smith mumbled something about unfamiliar food under his breath, and
Jorak said, "Well, no matter. We'll give you another moment or two,
Earthsmith. Then we'll have to be going. We all three have transtellar
history, you know."

Smith knew it all too well. Gyra and Bortinot and Shilon were so many
names to him and he silently cursed Earth's provincial histories. For
those here at the school, the three names and a hundred others might be
magical stepping stones to the culture, the lore, the history of a
galaxy--but all Smith knew now was th