The area around the Harbor was one of the shabbiest in the City. The streets were cramped, old and twisting. The noise of the dynamo sheds, which were just above this area, was a constant, dull throb. The dwelling-places were dark mouths, most of them with doors or pieces of wall missing; as he hurried after Bzya, Farr was aware of curious, hungry eyecups peering out at him. Here and there people Waved unevenly past — men and women, some of them Harbor workers, and many of them in the strange state called "drunkenness." Nobody spoke, to him or anybody else. Farr shivered, feeling clumsy and conspicuous; this was like being lost in a Crust-forest.

After a short time's brisk Waving, Bzya began to slow. They must be nearly at his home. Farr looked around curiously. They were still in the deepest Downside, almost on top of the Harbor, and the buildings here had the shrunken meanness of the areas closest to the Harbor itself. But in this area there was a difference, Farr saw slowly. The walls and doors were patched, but mostly intact. And there were no "drunks." It was astonishing to him how in such a short distance the character of Parz could change so completely.

Bzya grinned and pushed open a doorway — a doorway among thousands in these twisting corridors. Once again Farr wondered how Bzya knew how to find his way around with such unerring accuracy.

He climbed after Bzya through the doorway. The interior of the home was a single room — a rough sphere, dimly illuminated by wood-lamps fixed seemingly at random to the walls. He felt his cup-retinas stretch, adjusting to the low level of light.

A globe-bowl of tiny leaves was thrust into his chest.

He stumbled back in the Air. There was a wide, grinning face apparently suspended over the bowl — startlingly like Bzya's, but half-bald, nose flattened and misshapen, the nostrils dulled. "You're the upfluxer. Bzya's told me about you. Have a petal."

Bzya pushed past Farr and into the little home. "Let the poor lad in first, woman," he grumbled good-naturedly.

"All right, all right."

The woman withdrew, clutching her petal-globe and still grinning. Bzya wrapped a huge hand around Farr's forearm and dragged him into the room, away from the door, then closed the door behind them.

The three of them hovered in a rough circle. The woman dropped the petal-globe in the Air and thrust out a hand. "I'm Jool. Bzya's my husband. You are welcome here."

Farr took her hand. It was almost the size of Bzya's, and as strong. "Bzya told me about you, too."

Bzya kissed Jool. Then, sighing and stretching, he drifted away to the dim rear of the little home, leaving Farr with his wife.