Toliti… what?'

'It's their own language,' said the Recorder, 'and it's the only translation available.'

'Well, why political refugees? Why not geological refugees, or oompah refugees. I should think a translation ought to make sense.'

The Recorder shrugged: 'I refer you to the books. They're not criminals, they claim. I know only what I tell you.'

'Well, then, what do they look like? Do you have pictures?'

'At the Library.'

'Did you read my "Principles of Archaeology?"'

'I looked through it.'

'Do you remember the drawings of Primate Primeval?'

Tm afraid not.'

'Then, look, let's go down to the Library, after all.'

'Well, sure.' The Recorder grunted as he rose.

The Administrator of the Red River Gurrow Grouping held a position in no way different in essentials from that of the Museum Curator, the Recorder or any other voluntary job holder. To expect a difference is to assume a society in which executive ability is rare.

Actually, all jobs in a Gurrow Grouping - where a 'job' is defined as regular work, the fruits of which adhere to others in addition to the worker himself - are divided into two classes: one, Voluntary Jobs, and the other, Involuntary or Community Jobs. All of the first classification are equal. If a Gurrow enjoys the digging of useful ditches, his bent is to be respected and his job to be honored. If no one enjoys such burrowing and yet it is found necessary for comfort, it becomes a Community Job, done by lot or rotation according to convenience - annoying but unavoidable.

And so it was that the Administrator lived in a house no more ample and luxurious than others, sat at the head of no tables, had no particular title other than the name of his job, and was neither envied, hated, nor adored.

He liked to arrange Inter-Group trade, to supervise the common finances of the Group, and to judge the infrequent disagreements that arose. Of course, he received no additional food or energy privileges for doing what he liked.

It was not, therefore, to obtain permission, but to place his accounts in decent order, that Raph stopped in to see the Administrator. The Closed-Day had not yet ended. The Administrator sat peacefully in his after-dinner armchair, with an after-dinner cigar in his mouth, and an after-dinner book in his hand. Although there was something rather timeless about six children and a wife, even they had an after-dinner air about them.

Raph received a multiple greeting upon entering, and raised two hands to his ears, for if the various Administratelets (Only applicable title. Author.) had a job, it was noisemaking. Certainly, it was what they liked to do, and certainly others reaped most of the fruits therefrom, for their own eardrums were apparently impervious.

The Administrator shooed them.

Raph accepted a cigar.

'I intend leaving the Grouping for a time, Lahr,' he said. 'My job necessitates it.'

'We won't enjoy your going, Raph. I hope it will not be for long.'

'I hope not. What have we in Common Units?'

'Oh, ample for your purposes, I'm sure. Where do you intend going?'

'To the East Harbor Grouping.'

The Administrator nodded and blew out a thoughtful puff of smoke: 'Unfortunately, East Harbor has a surplus in their favor registered in our books - I can verify that, if you wish -but the Common Units of Exchange on hand will take care of transportation and necessary expenses.'

'Well, that's fine. But tell me, what is my status on the Community Job Roster?'

'Um-m-m - I'll have to get the rolls. You'll excuse me a moment.' He trundled away, heaving his great weight across the room and out into the hallway. Raph paused to poke at the youngest of the children who rolled up to him, growling in mock ferocity with gleaming teeth - a black little bundle of thick fur, with the long, childish snout that had not yet broadened away from the shape of the animal ancestry of half a million years earlier.

The Administrator returned with a heavy ledger and large spectacles. He opened the ledger meticulously, riffled the pages to the proper place and then drew a careful finger down the columns.

He said: There's only the question of water supply, Raph. You're due on the Maintenance gang for this next week. There's nothing else due for at least two months.'

'I'll be back before then. Is there any chance of someone subbing for me on the Water Maintenance?'

'Um-m-m - I'll get someone. I can always send my oldest. He's getting to job age and he might as well taste everything. He may like working on the dam.'

'Yes? You tell me if he does, then. He can replace me, regularly.'

The Administrator smiled gently: 'Don't plan on that, Raph. If he can figure out a way of making sleeping useful to all of us, he'll certainly take it up as a job. And why are you going to East Harbor Grouping, by the way, if it's something you care to talk about?'

'You'll laugh, perhaps, but I have just found out that there exist such things as Eekahs.'

'Eekahs? Yes, I know.' The Administrator pointed a finger. 'Creatures from across the sea! Right?'

'Right! But that's not all. I've come from the Library. I've seen trimensional reproductions, Lahr, and they're Primate Primeval, or almost. They're primates, anyway, intelligent primates. They've got small eyes, flat noses and completely different jawbones - but they're at least second cousins. I've got to see them, Lahr.'

The Administrator shrugged. He felt no interest in the matter himself. 'Why? I ask out of ignorance, Raph. Does it matter, your seeing them?'

'Matter?' Raph was obviously appalled at the question. 'Don't you know what's been going on these last years? Have you read my archaeology book?'

'No,' said the Administrator, definitely, 'I wouldn't read it to save myself a turn at Garbage Disposal.'

Raph said: 'Which probably proves you more suited to Garbage Disposal than archaeology. But never mind. I've been fighting single-handed for nearly ten years in favor of my theory that Primate Primeval was an intelligent creature with a developed civilization. I have nothing on my side so far but logical necessity, which is the last thing most archaeologists will accept. They want something solid. They want the remains of a Grouping, or artifacts, structures, books - get it. All I can give them is a skeleton with a huge brain-pan. Stars above, Lahr, what do they expect to survive in ten million years? Metal dies. Paper dies. Film dies.

'Only stone lasts, Lahr. And bone that's turned to stone. I've got that. A skull with room for a brain. And stone, too, old sharpened knives. Ground flints.'

'Well,' said Lahr, 'there are your artifacts.'

'Those are called eoliths, dawn stones. They won't accept them. They call them natural products, fortuitously shaped by erosion into the shapes they have, the idiots.'

Then he grinned with a scientific ferocity: 'But if the Eekahs are intelligent primates, I've practically proven my case."

Raph had traveled before, but never eastward, and the decline of agriculture on the road impressed him. In early history, the Gurrow Groupings had been entirely unspecialized. Each had been self-sufficient, and trade was a gesture of friendliness rather than a matter of necessity.

And so it was still in most Groupings. His own Grouping, the Red River, was perhaps typical. Some five hundred miles inland, set in lush farm land, agriculture remained centric. The river yielded some fish and there was a well-developed dairy industry. In fact, it was food exports that provided cause for the healthy state of the store of Common Units.

As they traveled eastward, however, the Groupings through which they passed paid less and less mind to the shallowing soil and more and more to the smoking factory structures.

In the East Harbor Grouping, Raph found a trading center which depended for its prosperity primarily upon ships. It was a more populous Grouping than the average, more densely packed, with houses, on occasion, within a hundred yards of each other.

Raph felt an uncomfortable prickling at the thought of living in such close quarters. The docks were even worse, with Gurrows engaged at the huge Community Jobs of loading and unloading.

The Administrator of this East Harbor Grouping was a young man, new at his job, overwhelmed with the joy of his work, and beside himself with the pleasure of welcoming a distinguished stranger.

Raph sat through an excellent meal, and was treated to a long discourse as to the exact derivation of each dish. To his provincial ears, beef from the Prairie Grouping, potatoes from the Northeast Woods Grouping, coffee from the Isthmus Grouping, wine from the Pacific Grouping, and fruit from the Central Lakes Grouping were something strange and wonderful.

Over the cigars - South Island Grouping - he brought up the subject of the Eekahs. The East Harbor Administrator grew solemn and a little uneasy.

'The man you want to see is Lernin. He'll be glad to help you all he can. You say you know something of these Eekahs?'

'I say I would like to know something. They resemble an extinct species of animal I am familiar with.'

'Then that is your field of interest. I see.'

'Perhaps you can tell me some of the details of their arrival, Administrator,' suggested Raph, politely.

'I was not Administrator at the time, friend, so that I lack first-hand information, but the records are plain. This group of Eekahs that arrived in their flying-machine… you've heard about these aeronautical devices?'

'Yes, yes.'

'Yes. Well…apparently they were fugitives.'

'So I have heard. Yet they claim not to be criminals. Isn't that so?'

'Yes. Queer, isn't it? They admitted that they had been condemned - this was after long and skillful questioning, once we had learned their language - but denied that they were evildoers. Apparently, they had disagreed with their Administrator on principles of policy.'

Raph nodded his head knowingly: 'Ah, and refused to abide by the common decision. Is that it?'

'More confusing than that. They insist there was no common decision. They claim that the Administrator decided on policy of his own accord.'

'And was not replaced?'

'Apparently those who believe he should are considered criminals - as these were.'

There was a frank pause of disbelief. Then Raph said: 'Does that sound reasonable to you?'

'No, I merely relay to you their words. Of course, the Eekah language is quite a barrier. Some of the sounds can't be pronounced: words have different meanings according to position in the sentence and according to tiny differences in inflection. And it happens often that Eekah words even when best translated are a complete puzzle.'