Can it be, he asked himself incredulously, that they don't see me? Perhaps their organs of vision make use of different wave lengths. Perhaps to them I and the ship are not pink and gray respectively, but a perfect black which fails to register. I must speak to them, I must make myself known. They may be startled, but I must take the chance. He rolled over to an individual who towered over him a full _spard_, and said gravely, "Greetings! I, Xhanph, bring you greetings from the inhabitants of the planet, Gfun. I come with a message of friendship--" There could be no doubt that the other heard him. And saw him too. He looked straight at Xhanph, muttered something, probably about a pink monster, which Xhanph could guess at but not really interpret, and moved on impatiently. Xhanph stared after him with an incredulity that grew by the moment. They didn't understand his language, that he realized. But surely they didn't have to understand in order to be interested. The very sight of his ship, a mere glimpse of _him_, the first visitor from interplanetary space, should have been enough to bring them flocking around. How could they possibly greet him with such disinterest, with such faces which even to a stranger seemed cold and chilling? When you have traveled as far as he had traveled, you don't give up easily. Another, a shorter individual, was coming toward him, and he began again, "Greetings! I, Xhanph--" This time the individual didn't even stop, but muttered something which must surely have been of the nature of an oath. And hurried on. Xhanph tried five more times before he gave up. If there had been the slightest indication of interest, he would have kept on. But there wasn't. The only feeling he could detect was one of impatience at being annoyed. And he saw that there was nothing else to do but go back to his ship. For a while he sat there, brooding. One possible solution struck him, although it didn't seem at all probable. These people were not representative of their kind. Perhaps this entire area he had taken for a city was nothing more than a retreat for the mentally disabled, for those who had found the strain of living too much and had sunk back into a kind of stupor. Perhaps elsewhere the people were more normal. At the thought, he brightened for a moment. Yes, that must be it. Convincing himself against his own better judgment, he lifted the ship into the air again and set it down a few dozen _grolls_ away. But there was no difference. Here, too, the faces looked at him blankly, and people hurried away impatiently when he tried to stop them. He knew now that it was useless to pick up the ship still another time and set it down elsewhere. If there was some rational explanation for such irrational behavior, it could be found here just as well as anywhere else. And explanation there must be. But he would have to look for it. It would not come to him if he simply sat there in the ship and waited for it.