The man rapped the table. "That's enough of your impertinence! You may very well have served the Intergalactic Service, but you are on Terra now. Terra, greatest, first of all civilized systems. Intergalactic may very well have to piddle with incompetent savages and wild colonists, but we of Terra assert our supremacy. Remember those words. You may not always find Terra so submissive to Intergalactic as Intergalactic would desire." "Where are your loyalties, Mr. Craig?" demanded one of the other men suddenly. "I am a Terran...." "But your first loyalty is to Intergalactic. Is that right?" "Is there a distinction?" Craig shot back, thoroughly angry. "Do you wish to be held in contempt of this committee?" asked the first man, leaning forward half out of his chair. "Of course not." "Then you will confine your responses to simple yes and no answers, if you please, _Mr._ Craig." Craig glared at the men in impotent rage. His head was beginning to ache. He had been many hours without paraoxylnebutal. "Now, Mr. Craig," the first man began in an overly mild tone, "we shall begin again. Please try to restrain your show of emotion. You are here in petition of an identity card of provisional Code II type. You maintain that you have never been on Terra before. Indeed, you state that you have never had a political affiliation." "Yes." "What are your reactions to the latest acts of the Liberty party?" a third man abruptly asked. "I have none," Craig answered, after an instant of confusion. "You do not condemn the Liberty party?" "I ... I...." "Then you must favor it." "I don't know anything about any...." "Now, then, Mr. Craig," interrupted the head of the group. "The Import service report shows that you passed your tests aboard your ship. You were enabled to accomplish this through night study." "Yes." "Yet you maintain in your application that you had considered the space service a career." "I changed my mind." "Oh. You changed your mind. I see...." * * * * * "What do you do if they turn you down on your food ration?" Craig asked the man by his side on the bench. He had intended it as a vaguely humorous question. "You don't eat." "You mean they would actually let you starve?" "If you could not eat, you would starve," the man said matter-of-factly. "What's all this for, anyway? I mean the medical part." "You are rationed fairly in accordance with your particular metabolism." "You're kidding." "One does not jest of such matters," said the man, getting up to take a seat on another bench. * * * * * "_But I'd like to keep it as a souvenir._" "_It is not permitted._" "_Look, it isn't issue. I bought the hide, had it made. I can pull off the marks of insignia and it's just another jacket...._" "_That is not the point, Mr. Craig. Your clothing ration is defined by law. There are no exceptions._" * * * * *