The spacious dining hall was crowded with humanity. At one table a tall, thin man was speaking into a microphone, while all eyes turned in his direction. Most raptly attentive of all were the great number of youthful diners, who seemed to regard the speaker with an awe that bordered on worship. Onto this scene came Koosh and Thuko, hot on the trail of eatables and drinkables. Spying the door to the kitchen, they hurried toward it between the tables, gabbling at each other in passionate conjecture at the delicacies awaiting them. They were little prepared for the furor that followed. It began at the first table they passed. A woman sitting there glanced their way, pointed at them, opened her mouth in a piercing scream and fainted dead away on the floor. The man with her jumped to his feet, shouting something in a hoarse voice. It sounded like: "They're here! It's finally happened! Now let's see them call us crazy!" Others stood up, attracted by the hubbub. They craned to see; and when they did, they too began yelling and gesticulating, until the dining hall was one vast sea of sound and motion. The Shisti and his assistant hesitated, hopped forward again, stopped finally in utter confusion. For the first time on this planet, fear caught at them. Could this truly be? Was it really possible that they had been detected? Did all of these humans believe in the Martians' existence? Plainly, they did. "We must flee, Koosh!" Thuko bawled in terror. "Return to the ship!" And suiting action to words, he turned and went leaping back the way they had come. Koosh followed close on his heel, with an alacrity unusual for that individual. "Wait! Wait, please!" someone called. "We won't harm you!" Others took it up. But of course Koosh and Thuko did not understand. They rushed on. And the crowd poured after them like a tidal wave, pleading with them to stop. Through the lobby, out the front entrance, down the steps, the Martians hopped with speed born of desperation. They started across the street, unheeding of the traffic, intent only on escape from their howling pursuers. Consequently they did not see the huge truck bearing down on them. Nor did the driver of the truck see them. Not that he was unalert. No, it was merely that he did not believe in Martians. Just as dozens of other motorists and pedestrians close around did not believe in them. The truck rolled forward. There was a crunching, squishing sound. A blue fluid spattered over the hood and chunks of spongy flesh rained down under the wheels as the delicately built aliens came apart in a thousand pieces. An eye-stalk, twitching violently, bounced off the cab roof. The truck rumbled on, the driver whistling a cheery tune. Bits of Koosh and Thuko rode with him, caught in the grill. So ended the Shisti and Assistant Shisti's vacation on Earth.... * * * * *