"I told you I'd never seen my father," Emrys reminded him. "As for what I was doing on Morethis--that's my business." "All I'm concerned with is whether or not you _are_ Emrys Shortmire." Distaste was almost tangible on Hubbard's tongue. "It does seem surprising that, since you _were_ on Morethis at the time your father died, you should not have come to claim your inheritance sooner." "I had affairs of my own to wind up," Emrys said flatly. * * * * * Hubbard tapped the papers. "You understand that these must be checked before you receive your father's estate?" "I understand perfectly." Emrys' voice was soft as a Si-yllan cat-man's, and even more insulting. "They will be gone over thoroughly for any possible error, any tiny imperfection, anything that could invalidate my claim. But you will find them entirely in order." "I'm sure of that." And Hubbard knew, if the papers were forgeries, they would be works of art. "You'll probably want me to undergo an equally thorough physical examination for signs of--ah--surgical tampering. Yes, I see I'm right." Ungenerous hope leaped inside Hubbard. "You would object?" "On the contrary, I'd be delighted. Haven't had a thorough medical checkup for years." On this cooperative note, Emrys Shortmire bowed and left. Hubbard sighed back against the velvet cushions of his chair--real silk, for he was a very rich old man. Unfortunately, he could not doubt that this was Jan Shortmire's progeny. But--and Hubbard sat upright--no matter how much Emrys resembled his father, that was only one parent. Who had the young man's mother been? Quickly, Hubbard searched through the papers for the birth certificate. The name was Iloa Tasqi. The nationality: _Morethan_. No wonder the affair had been kept so secret. No wonder Emrys seemed so strange and that Jan had lied about his previous visit to the dark planet. Small wonder, too, that he'd had a son he was not aware of. Who would have believed that human and Morethan could breed together? For the Morethans, although humanoid, were not at all human. So Emrys Shortmire was only half human. The other half was--well, the vidicasts called it _monster_, and, now that he had met the young man, Peter Hubbard was inclined to agree. II Outside the office building, Emrys Shortmire paused and inhaled deeply. Say what you would about the atmospheres of some of the other planets' being fresher and purer, the air of Earth, being the air in which Man had evolved, was the air that felt best in his nostrils and filled his lungs to greatest satisfaction. And, after the fetid atmosphere of Morethis, this was pure heaven. Gray sky and violet dying sun against blue sky and radiant golden sun. No wonder the Morethans were what they were, and Earthmen were what they were.