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"Why do I have to want something?" I asked.

"Everyone always wants something from me," he said, just a little more smoothly than before. "So what is it that you want?"

"Nothing," I said. "I just came out here to see what was going on."

"Then what are you still doing here?" he asked.

"I was on my way out, until you reminded me that I was bothering you."

"Who are you talking to?" I heard someone ask from farther away.

"I'm talking to her," he replied, with no sign of hesitation. "Who are you?"

"I'm a bounty hunter," came the reply from someone I didn't recognize.

"Then you should have nothing to say to me," he said. "Go away. I'm talking to the singing girl."

"I'm sorry," the person said, and walked away.

"What is it that you want, girl."

"I wanted to tell you that I heard that you were singing," I said, trying to remain calm. "So I thought that maybe you had some rights, and maybe you had some opinions. That's why I'm talking to you."

"What did you hear?" he asked.

"I heard you singing one of the idioms, about brass and copper."

"You mean, 'silver and tin'," he said.

"Yes. That's it. The silver and tin idioms of our culture."

"So, you have a lute," he said. "I know you don't belong to this clump."

"I'm from another village," I said. "I'm trying to meet some of the people from here. We want to find some people that we know, because we don't like them. You don't agree with us, right?"

"Yes, we sure do," he replied. "They come in here and take what they can get. In that case, we are the ones who are keeping them from getting the full value of everything they trick from us."

"Now, are you going to help us?" I asked.

"It's not my job," he replied, his face tightening. "It's theirs. You don't belong here. You belong in your own place. Go back to your own village."

"I don't have a home to go back to. I don't have anyone I can go to."

"Since when?" he asked.

I couldn't speak.

"You don't have any money, do you?" he asked. "Or any clothes. You're just another poor little thing trying to live on your own, here. You come here because you want to have a lot of people to take care of you, to make sure you have a lot to eat. That's all you really want."

"That's not true," I got out.

"You don't want anything of ours. You just want to have our things. You shouldn't have a lute. It's a one-track instrument."

"Listen to me," I said, trying to catch a word. "I've been taken care of. I was forced to come here. I'm not being taken care of now. That's not what I want. I want to go back to my own village, and be taken care of there."

"You're not being taken care of now."

"I'm not being taken care of," I said. "I'm alone now. And I don't want that. It's not what I want."

"That's where you're wrong," he said. "There's some rich people, who really want you."

"What rich person would want me?" I said, startled. "I barely know a real person here. It's not them here. They're not rich."

"You'd be surprised," he said. "You know them better than you think. You know some of the people who are here, from your village. They want you to know them better, so they sent you here. In that case, you should stay here. They can send money, clothes, and everything else. You'll be taken care of here."

"I want to get back to my own village," I said. "I don't want to be taken care of here. I have no idea what you're talking about or who you mean. But the people I want to be with are in my own village. And I know of nobody who wants me to stay here."

"You should come with us," he said. "We'll show you everything you need to know. We'll teach you how to live here. You won't need to stay with other people. Everyone around here hates them."

"I don't want them," I said. "And I don't want you."

"There is somebody who does want you. Do you know who that is?"

"No," I replied, hoping that the conversation would end. I was ready to leave, and couldn't think of anything else to say. "I just don't want to be your friend, so you can teach me things. I want to be with my own people."

"All right," he said. "I know that you're not willing to be friends with us, so I will pass you by. I can't promise you that you won't be taken in. And even if you don't go with me, you won't be safe here. So you may as well go with somebody you can trust. And you can go back to your own people, or even better, you can stay here in our village. Just show us where you really belong. I know that if you're really afraid of the people that you know, then you don't belong here."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. "If what you say were true, then you would know an awful lot about me and my village. And I would know a lot about you. I have never seen you in my own village, and you didn't tell me anything about your village, even though I asked you. You didn't tell me anything about anything. So if that's true, then you can tell me everything you know about me, and I will tell you everything you should know. Or at least answer any questions that are reasonably good, and that you're in a good position to know."

"You're our friend, then," he said. "I can see that you're one of us. I think that you're just suffering from knowing too much. If you don't tell us things, then I don't want you to know anything. I know where you should belong. I just want you to know that. And I want you to know that there is a way out of this for you. I see that you're not afraid to be taken care with me, because you must have known that we would do it to you. That's one thing that the people that you know didn't do. And if you'd like to be our friend, then you'll tell us everything that we should know. Just follow my instructions. And when you come to follow them, all of the things will be nice. I can tell you all of the things that you need to know to be happy. They won't be hard things. The way to do them will be easy. You'll be happy. You'll be one of us."