But Uru was paradise. And through Jones--The Man--the archangel?--I
could achieve it. All I had to do was make up my mind.
But why had he chosen me to make the trip with him, past the place
where the stars melted together in the speed of our journey through
mental space, to the planet that was named for a drug or gave its name
to a drug?
Since _uru_ was a drug maybe it was only natural that Jones' first
contact would be with users of narcotics. The natives an explorer first
meets in a new land are not necessarily people of the highest class. He
meets the adventurers, the ones with spirit enough to canoe out to meet
his ship.
So with Jones, perhaps. He would meet the others eventually--the
normal, respectable people to whom we users were a despised, hunted
minority. And when he had met the normal people, and through them
Earth's leaders, it was possible he would have no further use for me
and my kind. It was more than possible; it stood to reason.
If that was the case I had better grab my chance while I could--while
Jones still thought of me as his brother.
He had already bypassed one level of our outcast society--the stratum
typified by Rollo, habitual user and cheap crook--to reach me. I didn't
have to flatter myself to know I was better than Rollo and his kind.
I'd had some education, I avoided crime except when necessary, and I
had the will power to quit the stuff at least occasionally.
Was this mere rationalization? I didn't think so. But whatever it was
I would do well to accept Jones' offer without further demur and give
up Earth for life on Uru. I could start out fresh there, make a clean
break with my sordid past, and live the life of serenity and good will
he had shown me.