A city was on the other side. A good-sized city. No more than a mile away. Darrel glanced back at the ship from the hilltop, shrugged and turned toward the city. When he reached it he found a nightmare world. These Neptunians were all crazy. Disregarding every natural law, they dashed about the streets backward. Every last one of them. And they stared at him as though _he_ were a freak! He stopped at a corner to collect his senses. Vehicles milled and rushed--backwards. At high velocities they slammed up and down the streets in reverse, a steady stream, in all directions ... and without a mishap! Not a one of the lunatics had an accident! He leaned dizzily against a metal post. To steady himself he shifted his glance to immovable objects, to stationary things, to buildings. They behaved rationally. They didn't do things backwards. They didn't do anything but stand there, solid, substantial and sane. Except the one across the street. The theater marquee was lit up brilliantly--and it was morning. He glared at it belligerently, as though it were playing a dirty trick on him. The lights blinked out suddenly. Darrel moved into the crowd on the sidewalk and went along with it--he forward and the others backward. It was mad! Everyone stared at him in open astonishment, as though _he_ were the one who was going backward! He came to what seemed to be a restaurant, and went in. Over there. A waiter seemed to be beckoning. At least, he was pointing at him. Darrel walked over, his eyes on the astonished face of the waiter, and sat down to the table, already spread with food. It was piping hot, very strange to the palate, but good. Darrel's appetite quickened. He ate hungrily. Munching a piece of pastry, he looked up. He stopped chewing. The group at the next table was gazing at him with wide, incredulous eyes. He felt uncomfortable, and moved his glance around the room. He stopped eating and stared. Not only backward but ... blazing comets! Fascinated, he watched a man come in the entrance backwards, seat himself at a table littered with dirty dishes and crumpled napkins and--regurgitate food back into the dishes! The food reappeared in chunks. The man manipulated knife and fork, and the chunks became one whole. When the entire meal had been regurgitated into the dishes, and they seemed hot and ready to serve, a waiter came up and carried them all away. Moving backward, always backward. Darrel felt nauseated by the unnatural process. He got up and left the restaurant abruptly. Wide eyes followed his progress to the door. He moved with the crazy crowd that went back-side first. Ahead was a parkway that had normal, stationary benches. He would sit on one. * * * * * He had been sitting on the bench, watching this incredible world of retropulsion a half hour when he caught sight of the girl in the yellow tunic.