"You're surprised that they're not cluttering up the roads, trying to get a closer look at us?" Sam was hollering over the howl of the warm, oxygen-rich atmosphere.
"Good discipline," Joel grunted, still occupied with his own thoughts.
"Well, you're partly right. But more than that, we haven't stopped to look at them! It's sort of a half-courtesy, half-pride they have. They won't slow a stranger down if he doesn't slow them down, figuring that if he wanted to, he would; the prerogative is his. And, if he's not that interested, then neither are they!"
"You're sure some expedition didn't get here before we did?" Joel asked. "I mean—hell, they could be from Earth—"
"Ever hear of an Earthman with two hearts, Skipper? But physically that's about the only difference I could find. Psychologically—" The Space surgeon hesitated.
"Psychologically what?"
"Take too long to explain—we're coming into the capital city you were talking about. And besides—" he grinned in a sidelong glance at Joel, "you might even have the brains to figure it out all by yourself."
"Go to hell!"
In a moment Carruthers was busy with the jeep, tooling it through narrowing streets, slowing it to almost a walk as men and women hastened out of their way, crowded the board sidewalks to allow them to pass unhampered. The buildings were much like those he had seen in the rural districts; a little larger, a bit taller, but none more than fifty feet in height. Neatly painted, their thin glass windows bright and clean, they did not look like part of a city at all, Joel reflected, much less part of a capital city. And everything was so quiet.
Maybe too quiet. He felt a little chill at the base of his spine, but kept looking straight ahead.