Someone was beating at the ship's door, beating with his fists and crying out.
"All right," said Asher Sutton, "I'm coming. I'll be right along."
He reached down and lifted the attaché case from beside the seat, tucked it underneath his arm. He went to the lock and twirled it open and stepped out on the ground.
There was only one man.
"Hello," said Asher Sutton.
"Welcome to Earth, sir," said the man, and the "sir" struck a chord of memory. His eyes went to the man's forehead and he saw the faint tattooing of the serial number.
He had forgotten about androids. Perhaps a lot of other things as well. Little habit patterns that had sloughed away with the span of twenty years.
He saw the android staring at him, at the naked knee showing through the worn cloth, at the lack of shoes.
"Where I've been," said Sutton, sharply, "you couldn't buy a new suit every day."
"No, sir," said the android.