stopped him. He had resisted separation from the flitter. Perhaps he
could persuade the alien, under the excuse of inspecting a strange
machine, to take him back to the flyer. Once there he would stay. He
did not know what Captain Hobart and Lablet thought they could
accomplish here. But, as for himself, Raf was sure that he was not
going to feel easy again until he was across the northern mountain
chain and coming in for a landing close by the _RS 10_.

It was as if the alien officer had read his thoughts, for the warrior
uncrossed his black legs and got nimbly to his feet with a lithe
movement, which Raf, cramped by sitting in the unfamiliar posture,
could not emulate. No one appeared to notice their withdrawal. And
when Raf hesitated, trying to catch Hobart's eye and make some
explanation, the alien touched his arm lightly and motioned toward one
of the curtained doorways. Conscious that he could not withdraw from
the venture now, Raf reluctantly went out.

They were in a hall where bold bands of color interwove in patterns
impossible for Terran eyes to study. Raf lowered his gaze hurriedly to
the gray floor under his boots. He had discovered earlier that to try
to trace any thread of that wild splashing did weird things to his
eyesight and awakened inside him a sick panic. His space boots, with
the metal, magnetic plates set in the soles, clicked loudly on the
pavement where his companion's bare feet made no whisper of sound.

The hall gave upon a ramp leading down, and Raf recognized this. His
confidence arose. They were on their way out of the building. Here the
murals were missing so that he could look about him for reference
points.