"Betty Toal lives here," Rasmussen said. He struck his stick against a door in a long, log structure with identical doors spaced at ten-meter intervals. He tried the handle and said, "Not home. Probably has gone to her garden." We walked on down the street. I said, "An air hunt will be best. It's a good way with large animals." Rasmussen said, "Saw the wrecked jetcopter at the field? The shuttle would be a poor way to hunt." "No aircraft on the whole planet? Well, then, a car." Rasmussen pointed to a man passing on a muscle-powered vehicle. "Have tricycles, but am too old to pedal. Ride a tractor to likely places. Then will be afoot. Mine are flat." "On foot!" An uncanny contrivance, such as I had never imagined possible, waited near a wide gate. It had twelve wheels, four small ones in front and in back, and four large, lugged ones in the center. A confusion of rods and bars connected the lugged wheels to double cylinders on either side. Smoke puffed from a pipe atop the round body of the vehicle. A tired, worried, red-haired man stood on a rear platform and adjusted levers. Although he contrasted completely with the standard Maggiese, he seemed familiar, I then realized that here was a man resembling me. A woman, dressed in a costume like Rasmussen's, sat in one of the front seats. The old hunter sighed and said, "Fine weather, Betty Toal." Toal smiled and said, "Low, Rasmussen. Low, Kinlock." "Why break Ordinances," Rasmussen cried, "until must be deported? Ypsilanti is a fine man. Must go to this extreme? Reconsider the marriage. Let me try to use any influence may have, to re-instate you." "No, I'm leaving," Toal said. "Are you all right, Toal?" I asked. "I apologize for causing you trouble. If there--" "No, no, Kinlock. It was deliberate on my part." Rasmussen said, "Must not change your Maggiese accent. Even if you go, must remember our ways." "People out there don't speak Maggiese, and I'm going to stop it. I've been practicing for a year." Rasmussen said, "At least, Betty, do not make this hunt. Shot pigs, but this is the Hog. Must stay." "I'm going with you." "Ordinance 36 forbids male aliens and Maggiese females to ride in the same tractor." "I no longer obey Ordinances." Rasmussen puffed out his cheeks and expelled air in an irritated hiss. He glowered at Toal and me and said, "Cannot insure the safety of either. Climb aboard, then, Alien Kinlock." Toal moved over in the back seat. I heaved my weapons and pack to the platform. Rasmussen took the front seat. I followed him up the short ladder and sat beside Toal. Her elbows were nude, but leather stockings concealed her knees and ankles. "This is a tractor?" I said. "What is it?" "Steam engine," Toal answered. "Burns crude oil. Water is carried in this tank around the boiler. The steam pushes the pistons, and the rods turn the wheels." I shook my head in amazement and wondered why no one had invented a steam engine before.