Ranjit pointed to a sandwich bunk hoisted against the pipes and conduits that crisscrossed the ceiling in abstract patterns. He said, "I can spin this sweeper like a top, if I want to, but I can't accelerate it." He squinted through the small window beside the airvalve. "Speaking of spaceships," he rambled, "there's one out there now. Wonder who it is? There's not a thing on the schedule. Looks like they would've called in." Moving to the radio, the old man fumbled with knobs and switches and pounded on the cabinet with his fist. "This radio's deader than a asteroid!" he yelled. "First the teletype and now the radio. I'm supposed to report all ships to Titan, but how can I with no equipment? Maybe that's your ship come hunting you. What did you say your name is?" "Henry," said Henry. "Henry, huh? My name's Ranjit. I better get up to the big valve. That ship'll be clinching in a minute." "What does that sign mean?" said Henry, seizing the old man's bony wrist. "Sign? Oh, there over the desk? I just put that there to confuse people. It's a puzzle that spells out something in an old-time language, Latin maybe. Christian Huygens published that way back in 1655. He used a puzzle while he was checking some more. He was the first man to figure out what was around Saturn. It means something like, 'There's a flat ring that's inclined to the ecliptic that circles the planet without touching it.' Well, let go of me. I've got to see about that ship." "Just stay here and be calm, Ranjit," Henry said. "What?" "Be good, and you won't get hurt." "Get hurt? What are you talking about, Henry? That's no way to talk to a fellow that saved your life. If it hadn't been for me, you'd still be falling. You were slower than the sweeper. I saved your life!" Henry blushed in sudden shame and released Ranjit's arm. "Why, why, I--I guess you did!" he stammered. Henry lived in an era that had been preceded by wars which destroyed more than half the people of Earth. It was a time of rigidly controlled population, highly specialized training, and constantly increasing life expectancy. Each human life was considered a distinct and invaluable thing. Since the end of the final war, the Crime War, seventy years before, murder had become an obscene and almost meaningless word, and natural death was rarely mentioned. Saving another person's life was considered the most magnificent act that anyone could perform, and almost the only way to become a public hero, since actors, entertainers, policemen, and officials were thought to be no better than anyone else. "I'm--I'm sorry," Henry said, blushing until he perspired. "I'm all mixed up." "That's all right, Henry. You were out there a long time." Something struck twice against the hull of the ice-sweeper. "There's a clumsy pilot!" Ranjit yelled. "I better go see what he's trying to do."