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corridor on dark green carpeting. There were doorways on both sides of the corridor, and up ahead, about twenty-five feet in front of us, was an airtight door that looked dependable.
    “Outside is nothing but airless moonscape,” he answered. “This base is underground on Tildor’s nearer moon. When the Tildorani achieve spaceflight we’ll welcome them to the group, but we don’t want to be discovered by them before then.”
    “Don’t blame you a bit,” I commented, looking around as I walked. The doors along the corridor were unmarked, but there were small, metal plates to the right and left of each door, each pair of plates having a symbol of some sort, the symbols on each door being different.
    “This is our residential area,” Dameron supplied in true tour-guide fashion. “We have to pass through the work area to reach the docking facilities, so you’ll get to see most of the base. It’s a typical base in most respects, but we find it comfortable.”
    I nodded again without commenting, and continued to look around. We passed through the airtight door into another corridor, making sure the door was properly sealed behind us, then paced the length of the corridor. The walls were a brisk electric blue here with bright rust carpeting on the floor – a combination which seemed to encourage bustle. People bustled out of one doorway and into another, not really rushing but certainly not taking their time, and through the open doorways I could see other people sitting at odd-looking cubes or standing near what must have been computer terminals. Everyone was busy, and Dameron gestured toward them.
    “This is our work area, where everything gets done,” he explained.
    “Detailed information about areas and people are constantly updated, reports are added to their proper places, supply lists are confirmed and filled, and placed-on-planet profiles are developed for each of our team people. Knowing that an advisor-agent is about to take a trip helps me to keep our barbarian-agents from attacking his escort-and also gives the barbarian-agents a chance to keep a protective eye on him. I don’t ever want to have to send a report to Absar Central telling them that half my field team just wiped out the other half.
    Reports like that aren’t appreciated.”
    “That’s one comment I can understand without details,” I laughed, still looking around. Everything seemed so familiar and home-like that it was beginning to disturb me. I know that humanoid cultures at certain levels will be basically the same even if they begin light-years away from each other, but the base was so totally non-alien that I was finding it hard not to think of it as an extension of home. If I had had to learn their language the hard way it would have been easier remembering that they were strangers and still-possible enemies, but the ease of communication worked against my trained instincts. If I didn’t find something really alien about these people, I might find myself in the trap of beginning to like them.
    Almost in desperation, I turned my head to Dameron
    “What are the people on the planet like?” I asked, hoping for something extreme.
    “The Tildorani are just like you and me,” he answered without hesitation, taking time out from inspecting his work force to glance at me. “The humanoid form seems to be a popular one, and base personnel always look like the natives they’re Watchers for. You can never tell when some emergency will arise which will call for shuttling down most of us, and it’s best to be prepared.”
    “You must have a large group of trained Watchers to be able to match every backward planet,” I commented. “Even among humanoids there can be a broad enough spread of variations to make a noticeable difference.”
    “That poses no problem,” he said, stopping where he was again. “We have a simple answer for that based on…
    There was a sudden shout of, “Dameron!” and we both turned to see a woman