Another form pursued the first. As they neared, Jorun recognized Taliuvenna's supple outline. Those two had been teamed up for one of the African districts, but-- They sensed him and came wildly out of the sky to perch on the balcony railing and swing their legs above the heights. "How're you?" asked Cluthe. His lean face laughed in the moonlight. "Whoo-oo, what a flight!" "I'm all right," said Jorun. "You through in your sector?" "Uh-huh. So we thought we'd just duck over and look in here. Last chance anyone'll ever have to do some sight-seeing on Earth." Taliuvenna's full lips drooped a bit as she looked over the ruins. She came from Yunith, one of the few planets where they still kept cities, and was as much a child of their soaring arrogance as Jorun of his hills and tundras and great empty seas. "I thought it would be bigger," she said. "Well, they were building this fifty or sixty thousand years ago," said Cluthe. "Can't expect too much." "There is good art left here," said Jorun. "Pieces which for one reason or another weren't carried off. But you have to look around for it." "I've seen a lot of it already, in museums," said Taliuvenna. "Not bad." "C'mon, Tally," cried Cluthe. He touched her shoulder and sprang into the air. "Tag! You're it!" She screamed with laughter and shot off after him. They rushed across the wilderness, weaving in and out of empty windows and broken colonnades, and their shouts woke a clamor of echoes. Jorun sighed. _I'd better go to bed_, he thought. _It's late._ * * * * * The spaceship was a steely pillar against a low gray sky. Now and then a fine rain would drizzle down, blurring it from sight; then that would end, and the ship's flanks would glisten as if they were polished. Clouds scudded overhead like flying smoke, and the wind was loud in the trees. The line of Terrans moving slowly into the vessel seemed to go on forever. A couple of the ship's crew flew above them, throwing out a shield against the rain. They shuffled without much talk or expression, pushing carts filled with their little possessions. Jorun stood to one side, watching them go by, one face after another--scored and darkened by the sun of Earth, the winds of Earth, hands still grimy with the soil of Earth. _Well_, he thought, _there they go. They aren't being as emotional about it as I thought they would. I wonder if they really do care._ Julith went past with her parents. She saw him and darted from the line and curtsied before him. "Goodbye, good sir," she said. Looking up, she showed him a small and serious face. "Will I ever see you again?" "Well," he lied, "I might look in on you sometime." "Please do! In a few years, maybe, when you can." _It takes many generations to raise a people like this to our standard. In a few years--to me--she'll be in her grave._ "I'm sure you'll be very happy," he said.