He had never heard her real name, but she did not seem to object to his name for her. I am that which began; Out of me the years roll; Out of me God and man; I am equal and whole; God changes, and man, And the form of them bodily; I am the soul. He tried to sit up again, but he was very weak. He wanted to quote it to her and tell her what he had never told her: that the name of it was _Hertha_ and that it had been written long ago by a man named Swinburne, and he wanted to explain why he had named her after a poem, because it was very funny. The harsh light hurt his eyes and made him feel dizzy. He lay watching her as she bent toward the oxygen dial, wrinkling her face in animal concentration, trying to read it for him. Her puzzled expression was pathetic; it reminded him of the first time he had seen her. The walls began to spin crazily, for the hut had been intended for only one person. He remembered the first time he saw her, cowering in a filthy alleyway in the Miramus. At first he thought she had taken some food from a garbage pail and was trying to conceal it by holding it to her breast. But when the flare of a rocket leaving the field two blocks away lit the area for a moment, he saw that she was holding a tiny welikin, terribly mangled, looking as if it had just been run over by a heavy transport truck. He took it away from her and threw it into the darkness, shuddering. "It was dead," he said. She continued to stare at him, starting to cry silently, big, round, salt tears that she brushed at with reddened hands. "My--my--" she stammered. He had an eerie feeling that she was trying to say, "My baby," and he felt a little chill of pity creep up his spine. "What do you do?" he asked kindly. "Sweep floors. I work a little for the Commander's wife. Around her home." "How did you get here?" Still crying, she said, "On a rocket." "Of course. What I meant was...." But he did not need to ask how she had gotten passed the emigration officers. Some influential man--such things could happen, especially when the destination was a relatively new frontier, such as Helio, where there was little danger of investigation--had seen to it that certain answers were falsified; and a little money and a corrupt official had conspired to produce a passport which read, "Mentally and physically fit for colonization." The influential man had, in effect, bought and paid for a personal slave to bring with him to the stars. She would not know of her legal rights. She would be easily frightened and confused. And then something had happened, and for some reason she had been abandoned to shift for herself. Perhaps she had run away. He looked away from her face. This was none of his affair.