Wan Nes Stan checked into a hotel, using his assumed name. It was accepted without question, which pleased him greatly since he had need of procuring some Galactic currency so that he could pay bills. It gave him a place to stay until he could swing a deal, make a move, or steal a pocketfull of whatever the Galactic Ones used for money. Assuming that the Galactic Ones were running their hotels in a manner similar to Terran establishments, Wan Nes Stan ordered newspapers, a library list, and dinner. Ordering these, he found, was to his liking. There was complete rapport. The steak he ordered by projecting it as a whole, giving the waiter a complete mental impression from sight to texture. It was superb, just as he had pictured. Then he addressed himself to the papers. There was no price listed on the paper. He looked. He'd hoped to establish the parity value of a newspaper for price-scaling. He sought the financial section. There was none. There were sports, news items that interested him not one bit because not one of them pertained to the robbery of anything--the latter would have given him an initial idea of the value of things. The newspaper was thin and uninteresting. A society column listed the comings and goings of people and their associations. He found among the new arrivals column a notation of his own arrival--sketchy and uninformative--in Gerd Lel Rayne's ship; and a statement to the effect that Wan Nes Stan might be able to give some information as to the struggle of Terra in their advancement to the Galactic state. The latter was too close to home for Wan Nes Stan. It sounded a little as though he might be known; that his masquerade was understood. It was. * * * * * A knock came at the door an hour later, and as Wan Nes Stan opened the door, the Galactic who stood there smiled and said: "Wan Nes Stan? Formerly Terran of Terra?" "I ... must admit it." "Think nothing of it," replied the Galactic affably. "I am Len Dor Vale, sector overseer." "My masquerade is known?" The Galactic laughed. "Known and appreciated. Look, my friend, when the substitute becomes as efficient as the real thing, we no longer look down upon it. You are no longer a Terran, you are as much a Galactic One as the rest of us." "I am?" "Aren't you?" Wan Nes Stan swallowed. "I've considered myself so." "We don't object." "I thought you might consider me presumptive--" "Not in the least!" boomed Len Dor Vale. "That makes it easier," said Wan Nes Stan. "Trying to conceal your real identity is both impossible and ridiculous," laughed Len Dor Vale. "Now, Wan Nes Stan, how will you spend your Galactic life?" "First, how long have I to live?"