They were looking at his shabby clothes, at the dirty brownstone hovel he lived in—an antique of a house four or five centuries old.
"You mean you're rich?" the Earther said.
"Sure," Rolf said. "Every Spacer is. So what? What can I spend it on? My money's banked on Mars and Venus. Thanks to the law I can't legally get it to Earth. So I live in Spacertown."
"Have you ever seen an Earther city?" the earless one asked, looking around at the quiet streets of Spacertown with big powerful men sitting idly in front of every house.
"I used to live in Yawk," Rolf said. "My grandmother was an Earther; she brought me up there. I haven't been back there since I left for space." They forced me out of Yawk, he thought. I'm not part of their species. Not one of them.
The two Earthers exchanged glances.
"Can we interest you in a suggestion?" They drew in their breath as if they expected to be knocked sprawling.
Kanaday appeared at the door of the shack again.
"Rolf. Hey! You turning into an Earther? Get rid of them two cuties before there's trouble."