"Maybe so." The major turned to Ollie and said, "I just transferred in here. You know more about this than I do." "I don't even know what you're talking about," Ollie told him. "Without divulging classified information," said Katt, "for which you are not yet cleared, I can tell you these are little one-man jobs. Small stuff--for pioneering. That's why we want you men with lots of patience, who're used to being alone. People without a fixed place in society, and not too much to leave behind. A husky old itinerant like you is just what we want." "For what?" Ollie insisted. "To travel--as a sort of working passenger, since piloting will of course be mechanical--in the first manned spaceships to leave Earth for the stars." "Spaceships?" "Sure. Solo spaceships. Super-fast, which means the trip will seem relatively short while you're on it, and will give you extra earth-years of life in the end. "The job is much easier and less hazardous than the train ride that brought you here. You're a natural for it. You really fit it." "Do I, now?" A quick glow of inner warmth melted many bad years away. Ollie grinned. "You know," he said, "in a way that's a disappointment." "How so?" asked the major aggressively. "Don't you want the job?" "Yes, sir. I want it. But all these years I've been telling myself that somewhere on this earth was a place I'd fit into, if only I could find it. Now you tell me I fit in, but the place isn't here on Earth after all!" "Not right now, no," said Katt. "But you'll be back. Rich and famous, too. No Home for you, Mr. Hollveg--you'll have a nice place of your own." And he did--after photographing the planets of Arcturus.