"Oh, I'll look around Uniport awhile, then visit other cities ... New York ... London ... Vienna.... I have six months, you know."
"I know—I'm sure you'll enjoy your happy time. But you must have a destination—someplace where you can be contacted, or leave forwarding addresses." The official's voice was patient, but it had the curious mechanical quality Walther had noted in speech of the pretty young stewardess.
"Can you recommend good lodging?"
"The Uniport landing provides excellent facilities, and you'll be among other travelers until you have a chance to adjust yourself to happy time activities."
"Oh, no! I don't want to waste a moment! I want to live among the people of Earth from this very first night!"
The customs officer peered at Walther's entry permit.
"Andromeda ... that's what I thought." He shook his head dubiously. "You have your Orientation Manual?"
Walther fumbled in the pockets of his greatcoat.
"I must have left it on the shuttleship, but I don't need it."
The official pressed another copy of the manual firmly into Walther's hands.