He kept riding. He passed through Missouri and up into Illinois, following the Mississippi up from Cairo. The year was well into late October and the evenings were chilly. He rode quickly; the horse he had captured was a smoothly-functioning, full-blooded traveling machine. Up through Illinois, until finally the broad expanse of Mutie City was visible through the dawn haze. For the first time since being cast out of Wiener he had the feeling that he was approaching safety. Flight was over--for now. Of course, the mutants had told him not to return. But this was an emergency; surely they'd let him in. He entered the city shortly after morning. The mutants were stirring, going about their early-day business. It seemed a savage parody of a normal city's routine. The shops were crowded, and what difference did it make if shopkeepers' heads were of spongy blue flesh and shoppers had the arms of lizards? He felt terribly weary. As he entered the city, he was not surprised to see Spahl coming toward him. "Hello," he said, dismounting. "We expected your return," the seal-like creature said without preamble of formality. "We knew when we asked you to leave that you would be back." "I want to rest," Kesley said. "This time don't throw me out." He allowed Spahl to lead him to the room he had occupied on his earlier visit. A group of mutants congregated; he recognized Foursmith and Huygen. There were some others, stranger and more bizarre than any he had yet seen. It was odd, Kesley thought, that the one place on Earth he could go for sanctuary was to this repository of freaks. Angrily, he brushed the thought away. The mutants were--well, _people_. "I've been to the Colony and to Wiener," he explained. "I couldn't stay there. Winslow's hunting me all over the country." "We know these things," Spahl said quietly. "We have followed your path, Kesley." "And--?" "We have decided the time has come for you to go home. You've been long awaited and we'll make sure you get there safely." "Home?" "Now your life is in danger. You endanger anyone you come in contact with. Obviously you must not remain in Winslow's territories any longer--or Miguel's." "And therefore," Foursmith added when Spahl ceased, "we will send you forth. For your sake and ours." Huygens, the man of two heads, said: "Besides, Daveen has been found." "What? Where?" "He is in Antarctican hands now. We sent him there but recently. He waits for you. Spahl, is it time?" "Not just yet," said the seal-man. "Kesley, will you remember what we're doing--_later_? We're buying our lives from you. Will you remember that?" "I don't understand a thing," Kesley said wearily. "I don't even think I want to understand. But yes, I'll remember. Sure." He rocked forward on his chair, dizzy, confused. The mutants gave way, and a new one entered the room--a small, very pale man, normal except for the huge circumference of his skull. "Edwin is a teleport," Spahl remarked casually. "What--"