Star Born by Andre Norton

see. The globe spiraled down to make a neat landing on a flat plateau, and Raf prepared to join it. When the undercarriage of the flitter jarred lightly on the rock, he saw signs that this was a man- or alien-fashioned place which must have had much use in the dim past when his new companions ruled all their native world.
    The rock had been smoothed off to a flat surface, and at its perimeter were several small domed buildings. Yet, as there had been in the countryside and in the city, except at its very heart, there was an aura of desertion at the site.
    Both his alien passengers jumped out of the flitter, as if only too pleased at their release from the Terran flyer. For the first time Raf was shaken out of his own preoccupation with his dislike for the aliens to wonder if they could be moved by a similar distaste for Terrans. Lablet might be interested in that as a scientific problem-the pilot only knew how he felt and that was not comfortable.
    Soriki got out and walked across the rock, stretching. But for a long moment Raf remained where he was, behind the controls of the flyer. He was as cramped and tired of travel as the com-tech, perhaps even more so since the responsibility of the flight had been his. And had they landed in open country he would have liked to have thrown himself down on the ground, taking off his helmet and unhooking his tunic collar to let the fresh wind blow through his hair and across his skin. Perhaps that would take away the arid dust of centuries, which, to his mind, had grimed him since their hours in the city. But here was no open country, only a landing space which reminded him too much of the roof of the building in the metropolis.
    A half-dozen of the breast plated warriors filed out of the globe and went to the nearest dome, returning with heavy boxes. Fuel-supplies-Raf shrugged off the problem. The pilot was secretly relieved when Captain Hobart dropped out of the hatch in the globe and made his way over to the flitter.
    “Everything running smoothly?” he asked with a glance at the two aliens who were Raf’s passengers.
    “Yes, sir. Any idea how much farther-?” Raf, questioned.
    Hobart shrugged. “Until we work out basic language difficulties,” he muttered, “who knows anything? There is at least one more of these way stations. They don’t run on atomics, need some kind of fuel, and they have to have new supplies every so often. Their head man can’t understand why it isn’t necessary for us to do the same.”
    “Has he suggested that his techneers want a look at our motors, sir?”
    Hobart unbent a little. It was as if in that question he had read something which pleased him. “So far we’ve managed not to understand that. And if anyone tries it on his own, refer him to me-understand?”
    “Yes, sir!” Some of the relief in Raf’s tone came through, and he saw that the captain was watching him narrowly.
    “You don’t like these people, KurbiP”
    The pilot replied with the truth. “I don’t feel easy with them, sir. Not that they’ve shown any unfriendliness. Maybe it’s because they’re alien-“
    He had said the wrong thing and knew it immediately.
    “That sounds like prejudice, Kurbil” Hobart’s voice carried the snap of a reprimand.
    “Yes, sir,” Raf said woodenly. That had done it as far as the captain was concerned. The fierce racial and economical prejudices which had been the keystones of the structure of Pax had left their shadow on Terra’s thinking. Nowadays a man would better be condemned for murder than for prejudice against another-it was the unforgivable crime. And in that unconsidered answer Raf had rendered unreliable in the eyes of authority any future report on the aliens which he might be forced to make.
    Silently cursing his lack of judgment, Raf made a careful check of the flyer, which might not be necessary but going through the motions of doing his duty gave him some relief. Once the idea struck him of claiming some trouble that