The psychotechnician sighed again, watching him go. He liked the old fellow. It would be criminal to leave him here alone, but the law forbade force--physical or mental--and the Integrator on Corazuno wasn't going to care whether or not one aged man stayed behind. The job was to get the _race_ off Terra. _A lovely world._ Jorun's thin mobile features, pale-skinned and large-eyed, turned around the horizon. _A fair world we came from._ There were more beautiful planets in the Galaxy's swarming myriads--the indigo world-ocean of Loa, jeweled with islands; the heaven-defying mountains of Sharang; the sky of Jareb, that seemed to drip light--oh, many and many, but there was only one Earth. Jorun remembered his first sight of this world, hanging free in space to watch it after the gruelling ten-day run, thirty thousand light-years, from Corazuno. It was blue as it turned before his eyes, a burnished turquoise shield blazoned with the living green and brown of its lands, and the poles were crowned with a flimmering haze of aurora. The belts that streaked its face and blurred the continents were cloud, wind and water and the gray rush of rain, like a benediction from heaven. Beyond the planet hung its moon, a scarred golden crescent, and he had wondered how many generations of men had looked up to it, or watched its light like a broken bridge across moving waters. Against the enormous cold of the sky--utter black out to the distant coils of the nebulae, thronging with a million frosty points of diamond-hard blaze that were the stars--Earth had stood as a sign of haven. To Jorun, who came from Galactic center and its uncountable hosts of suns, heaven was bare, this was the outer fringe where the stars thinned away toward hideous immensity. He had shivered a little, drawn the envelope of air and warmth closer about him, with a convulsive movement. The silence drummed in his head. Then he streaked for the north-pole rendezvous of his group. _Well_, he thought now, _we have a pretty routine job. The first expedition here, five years ago, prepared the natives for the fact they'd have to go. Our party simply has to organize these docile peasants in time for the ships._ But it had meant a lot of hard work, and he was tired. It would be good to finish the job and get back home. Or would it?