"Mars. I mean, we're the first men to land on Mars. The first, Dave!" They were walking aimlessly, in no particular hurry. "It's funny," Dave said. "I told you before. I feel kind of--" * * * * * The music started abruptly, almost exploded into being, tore through the silence of the planet like the strident scream of a wounded animal. Trumpets blasted raucously, trombones moaned and slid, bass drums pounded a steady tattoo. Tubas, heavy and solemn like old men belching. Clarinets, shrill and squealing. Cymbals clashing. A military band blaring its march into the night. "Wha--" Dave's mouth hung open. He stared into the distance. There were lights, and the brass gleamed dully. A group of men were marching toward them, blowing on their horns, waving brilliant banners in the air. "People," Cal said. "And music. Like ours. _Music just like ours._" The procession spilled across the sand like an unravelling spool of brightly colored silk. Children danced on the outskirts of the group, hopping up and down, screaming in glee. Women waved banners, sang along with the band. And the music shouted out across the sand, a triumphal march with a lively beat. A fat man led the procession. He was beaming, his smile a great enamelled gash across his face. The music became louder, closer, ear-shattering now. "Welcome," the shouts rang out. "Welcome." "Welcome!" "English!" The word escaped Dave's lips in a sudden hiss. "For God's sake, Cal, they're speaking English." "Something's wrong," Cal said tightly. "This isn't Mars. We've made a mistake, Dave." The fat man was closer now, still grinning, his stomach protruding, a gold watch hanging across his vest beneath his jacket. He wore a white carnation in his buttonhole. A homburg, black, was perched solidly atop his head. "They're human," Dave whispered. The fat man stopped before them, raised his hands. The music ceased as abruptly as it had begun. He stepped forward and extended his hand. "Welcome home," he said. Welcome _home_! The words seared across Cal's mind with sudden understanding. "There's some mistake ..." he started. "Mistake?" The fat man chuckled. "Nonsense, nonsense. I am Mayor Panley. You're back in New Calleth, gentlemen. The city is yours. The _world_ is yours! Welcome home." "You don't understand," Cal persisted. "We've just come from Earth. We've just travelled more than 50,000,000 miles through space. We're from Earth." "I know," the mayor said, "I know." "You know?" "But of course. Isn't it wonderful?" The crowd cheered behind him, telling the night how wonderful it was. Cal blinked, turned to Dave. The mayor put his arms about the two men. "We've been watching your approach for weeks. I'll have to admit we were a little worried in the beginning." "Worried?" The mayor began chuckling again. "Why yes, yes. Not that we didn't think you'd make it. But there were some who ... ahh, here are the television trucks now."