June looked in stunned silence at the stranger leaning against the tree. Thirty-six light years—thirty-six times six trillion miles of monotonous space travel—to be told that the planet was already settled! "We didn't know there was a colony here," she said. "It is not on the map."
"We were afraid of that," the tall bronze man answered soberly. "We have been here three generations and yet no traders have come."
Max shifted the kit strap on his shoulder and offered a hand. "My name is Max Stark, M.D. This is June Walton, M.D., Hal Barton, M.D., and George Barton, Hal's brother, also M.D."
"Patrick Mead is the name," smiled the man, shaking hands casually. "Just a hunter and bridge carpenter myself. Never met any medicos before."
The grip was effortless but even through her airproofed glove June could feel that the fingers that touched hers were as hard as padded steel.
"What—what is the population of Minos?" she asked.
He looked down at her curiously for a moment before answering. "Only one hundred and fifty." He smiled. "Don't worry, this isn't a city planet yet. There's room for a few more people." He shook hands with the Bartons quickly. "That is—you are people, aren't you?" he asked startlingly.
"Why not?" said Max with a poise that June admired.
"Well, you are all so—so—" Patrick Mead's eyes roamed across the faces of the group. "So varied."
They could find no meaning in that, and stood puzzled.