Hendley flushed. It was true, though he hadn't thought too much about it before. His recent arrival in the camp would be obvious to everyone. He felt a strong wish to belong, to be one with these brown, happy, uninhibited people, to merge with them. And just as suddenly the harsh reminder came: he wouldn't have time. He had less than a day. The girl was no longer watching him. Hendley rose from his crouch, but he didn't move away. She was about Ann's age, he thought. But Ann would never be so brown-skinned. He frowned, guiltily conscious of a comparison unfavorable to Ann, wondering why he had thought "never." The swimmers converged at that moment near one of the goals. In the tangle of brown bodies and boiling water it was impossible to follow the action closely, but there was a sudden scream of pain, choked off as a mouth filled with water. A whistle shrilled. The players drew apart, surfacing, treading water, drifting to the sides of the pool. One body stayed down, motionless near the bottom, appearing to undulate gently with the rippling of the water. The other swimmers made no move toward him, but even as alarm tugged at Hendley he saw two stiff-legged figures trotting briskly toward the pool from a beige-colored building in the background. With a start Hendley realized they were humanoids, robots so flawlessly imitative of man that, across the width of the pool, only a certain rigidity of movement betrayed their origin. Without hesitation they dove into the pool. "Why don't the others do anything?" Hendley exclaimed. "That man'll drown!" "They're not supposed to," the tanned girl said. "Rules of the game. Besides, it's the robots' job. They're better at it." "But I don't--" Hendley broke off. The robot rescuers surfaced with the limp body of the injured player. With practiced efficiency they eased him onto the deck beside the pool. "That answers a question I had," Hendley said thoughtfully. "What's that?" "About how some of the services are performed in the camp. I didn't know you had robots." The girl lost interest. "They're handy, even if they are kind of creepy." A small crowd now huddled around the unconscious swimmer. "Do you suppose he'll be all right?" Hendley wondered aloud. "Looks like he's only got a broken arm," the girl said indifferently. "They'll bring him around." Hendley stared at her, startled by her lack of concern. Before he could speak a broad-shouldered man with blond hair burned almost white by the sun heaved himself from the water to flop onto the deck beside the girl. "Two-minute break," he said loudly. "Bad luck. MTL-619 was a good guard." Becoming aware of Hendley standing nearby, he glanced up. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "How about you? We need a player." "Oh, I--I don't think so," Hendley demurred. "Why not? It's fun!" The girl was watching Hendley. Her brown eyes seemed to hold a challenge. "You'll never learn unless you try," she said.