 Upon landing, Craig is greeted by whom?
Rootless and footloose, a man in space can't help but dream of coming home. Flight Officer Robert Craig surrendered the tube containing his service record tapes and stood waiting while the bored process clerk examined the seal. "No specific destination," supplied the man as he punched a key on a small instrument, "Air-lock ahead and to your right. Any metal?" "Metal?" asked Craig. "Place your clothing in the receptacle provided and assume a stationary position on the raised podium in the center of the lock." Craig obeyed the robot voice and began reluctantly to remove his flight jacket. "Insert your right arm into the instrument on the central table," commanded the same voice he had heard before. "Well, what's next?" asked Craig somewhat more belligerently than he had intended. "No, but my father—" "Your parents left Terra during the Second Colonization of Cassiopeia II, didn't they?" He was uncomfortable; Wyandotte seemed to know all about him. "Oh, I've landed a few times, even walked around for a while...." During the days that followed, the psychologist seemed to Craig to become progressively more didactic. Through the ports of the headquarters base satellite, he scanned the constellations for the scores of worlds he had visited during his eleven years in space. He had weathered difficult landings on worlds with rip-tide gravities, had felt the pull of the incredible star-tides imparted by twin and even triple star systems.
 Two screening technicians
 A reporter and his cameraman  Two members of Terra's welcoming committee  Two screening technicians  A psychologist and his assistant