"Why don't you say I'm from another planet?"

"No one would believe it. In fact, I'm not sure I believe it myself."

"If Earthlings won't believe the truth, why not let me stay here? No one would believe I did."

"You don't understand," Homer groaned. "There's such a thing as custom. Moral law. Ethics. Social behavior. There are ways a person can act because to act otherwise is not the thing to do. Certain things cannot be done and people are quick to suspect that they are being done sometimes when they're not being done. Am I clear?"

"No," said Qalith. "But the earth file in our museum is going to be a large one."

Suddenly the phone rang. Homer jumped and knocked his empty glass to the floor. Quickly he rose and lifted the phone.

"This is Fader, Hopkins," came a voice over the wire. "About my letter—"

"Oh yes, C. J. It came today."

"This is a big thing, my boy."

"I know it is, C. J."

"I want to get started on it immediately."

"To be frank, C. J., I wanted a little time to think it over."

"I'll make it twelve thousand if you make up your mind now—tonight," Fader said. "I'm going to expand. I'll make Fader's Fadeless the biggest line of paints in the world, but I've got to have research. You've convinced me you can do the job—"

"Can't I call you back C. J.? I just want to study this thing—" And get rid of Qalith, Homer told himself.

"No! I'm coming over to talk to you." There was a click in the receiver and Homer held a silent phone.

"A funny instrument," said Qalith, "It'll never take the place of telepathy."

Homer put the phone back in its cradle, and picked up the empty liquor glass. He took it to the kitchen. It wasn't the first thing he had to do, but C. J. might not approve so Homer had to get it out of sight. He closed the kitchen cabinet door so the whisky was out of sight. Then he went to the living room and saw that Qalith was unpacking her bag.

Homer could see the 

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