When he knew that the fierce sun and wind would kill him before he could get back to the bubble, he started removing his all-weather clothes. He flung them aside like a dancer. Coat to the left, trousers to the right. The hot wind threw the trousers back against his face. He tore them off with a curse. Shirt to the left. He kept the shoes on, out of respect for his feet. Then he trudged on, wondering vaguely how a half dressed man, dying on his feet, could make the same marks in the sand as a fully clothed, comfortable one. He stumbled on an outcropping of rock. He fell. He picked himself up again. It would be quick, after all. The sun was in league with the rest of the universe. He would die soon. He fell again. He had found the planet of Lorrane easily. The adventurer's charts were accurate. It was a dry, barren place, an old, worn-out world where only wind and sand moved, where mountains shoved their eroded peaks into the impotent sky. But Ingomar found, upon emerging from his ship, that there was another movement. Two black dots appeared far away in the sky and rapidly grew larger. He had been told that the planet was populated by an intelligent form of bird life. Two were approaching now. He smiled to himself. "Imagine that," he said to himself, "A smart bird. How should you meet a smart bird? Should you shake hands?" The birds alighted in the sand before him. They eyed him with bright, intelligent eyes. They were quite large, standing at least two feet tall. Their gray feathers lay smooth and straight, immaculately cared for. Ingomar cast around in his mind for something to say, or some sign to make that indicated friendship. Then one of the birds looked at the other and said, "This one is larger." "Much," the other replied. Ingomar was astonished. "You can talk?" he asked, "In English?" "Certainly. Didn't the first man tell how he instructed us?" "Yes, yes, of course," Ingomar said, confused. "But I didn't remem ... that is.... Well, I didn't believe it." The birds eyed each other again. "I like him," one said. "If there's anything I hate, it's a completely honest person." The other gave him a vicious peck on his back. "Shut up!" it said, "Do you want him to think we condone dishonesty?" "Of course not," the other retorted hotly, "I just meant that, considering social protocol, it is sometimes kind to tell a very small lie." * * * * * Ingomar was speechless. He looked back at his ship, standing tall and straight, ready to blast itself into the sky again. He glanced around at the lonely landscape. Finally he said, "It is difficult to see a difference between you two. Do you have names that I might be able to use?" "Oh, yes. We beg your pardon. How uncivil of us. Our name, translated into your tongue, is Pisces." "The fish?" "Well," they said, "from our home planet the constellation does not look like a fish."