I lack sufficient programs involving pharmacology to know whether such treatments would have the side effects of his spells—in terms of his apparent manic phase followed by a personality change.

"I don't believe the danger in departing would be any greater than that in remaining here," Red replied.

Tell me about the personality changes, Mondamay said. Are they temporary irrationalities or what? He did strike me as somewhat changed from our last meeting, but I have not really observed him long enough this time to draw any conclusions.

They seem stable each time—a younger outlook, more enthusiasm... He's less conservative, more willing to take chances, a little quicker in his responsesmental and physical—and perhaps a little more cruel, arrogant, audacious ... "Rash" is perhaps the best word.

Then there is a possibility that he may be about to do something—rash?

I suppose there is.

"I will precede you on the way to the car, Red," Mondamay stated, moving ahead toward the lobby door.

"That isn't necessary."

"Just the same ..."

"Okay."

"Where are we headed?" Flowers inquired as they passed outside into a sunny morning,

"Up the Road."

"To carry the attack to Chadwick?"

"Probably."

"C Twenty-seven? That is quite a haul."

"Yes."

There was no one else about as they crossed to the

vehicle and entered it. ,,.•,. "I will check all systems," Flowers stated, after being

deposited in her niche, "before ignition."

"Go ahead." .

"Red, you are looking well this morning, Mondamay stated, '''but how do you really feel? I overheard you say something about not being clear on things you did yesterday. Do you think we ought to find someplace off the Road where vou can rest?"

"Rest? Hell, no! I feel fine."

"I mean mentally, emotionally. If your memory is playing tricks—"

"Not important, not important. Don't concern yourself. I'm always a little fuzzy that way after one of my attacks."

"What are they like?"

"I don't know. I never can recall."

"What brings them on?"

Red shrugged.

"Who knows?"

"Do they occur at any special times? Is there a pattern to them?"

"Nothing I've ever been able to discern."

"Have you consulted a physician concerning them?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to be cured. I find my condition improved each time one occurs. I wake up remembering things I hadn't recalled before; I've a new outlook I always enjoy--"

A moment. I thought you'd said you suffer a memory-impairment on each occasion."

"On this end, yes. On the far end, I gain more

ground."

"All systems safe," Flowers announced.

"Good."

Red started the engine and headed toward the exit

"You have confused me even more," Mondamay stated as they avoided a ragged individual wearing a crusader's cross, then turned onto the highway, passing an old vehicle driven by a young man which entered the lot and took their parking place. "What do you mean by 'the far end'? What do you remember? Have you any idea at all as to the nature of the process you are undergoing?"

Red sighed. He located a cigar and chewed on it, but he did not light it.

"All right, I remember being an old man," he began. "Very old ... I was walking through a rocky wasteland. It was nearly morning, and it was foggy. My feet were bleeding. I was carrying a staff, and I leaned on it a lot."

He shifted the cigar from one comer of his mouth :

to the other and looked out of the window.

"That's all," he said.

"All? That can hardly be all," Flowers broke in. "Are you trying to say that you grew up—or grew to wherever you are—backwards? That you started out as an old man?"

"That's what I just said. Yes," Red answered irritably.

"Watch the curve. —You mean that you remember nothing whatsoever before being old and walking through a waste? Or— What did you gain this time?"

"Nothing rational. Just a few delirium-dreams of odd shapes moving about me in the fog, and fear and so forth—and I kept going."

"Did you know where you were going?"

"No."

"And you were alone?..."

"At first."

"At first?"

"Somewhere along the way, I acquired company. I'm still hazy about the circumstances, but there was an old

woman. We were helping each other over the rough

spots: Leila."

"There was a Leila with you years ago, on one occasion when you visited me. But she was not an old

woman ..... "The same. Our ways have parted and rejoined many

times but her situation has paralleled my own with respect to the reversed aging business."

She was not involved in your dealings with Chadwick?"

"No, but she knew him.

"Do either of you have any idea where you are headed in your strange course of growth?"

"She seems to think that this is only a phase in a larger life cycle."

"And you do not?"

"Maybe it is. I just don't know."

"Does Chadwick know all this about you?"

"Yes."

"Could he possibly know more about it than you do?"

Red shook his head.

"No way to tell. I suppose anything is possible."

"What is his reason for being so down on you?"

"When we parted company, he was upset that I was destroying a good business arrangement"

"Were you?"

"I suppose so. But he'd changed the nature of the business and it wasn't so much fun anymore. I messed up the operations and left."

''But he is still a rich man?"

"Very wealthy."

"Then I suspect the possibility of a motive other than the economic. Jealousy, perhaps, at your improving well-being."

Possibly, but nothing turns on it. It is his objective rather than his motive that concerns me."

"I am just trying to understand the enemy, Red." "I know. But there isn't much else to tell."

•'^

He swung through the underpass and turned left up

the access ramp. A shadow which fell upon the vehicle

did not depart when he entered the light, "Your room was quite a mess this morning," Monda may observed. ^ "Yes, it was. That always happens."

"What about that design that looked like a Chinese

character burned into the door? Is that a customary

accompaniment?" "No. It was just—a Chinese character. It meant

'good fortune.'" "How do you explain it?" "Don't. Can't. Strange." Mondamay made a high-pitched, broken whistling

noise. "What's funny?" "I was thinking of some books you once left—with

pictures you had to explain to me." "I'm afraid..." "Cartoons, with captions." Red relit his cigar. "Not funny," he said. The strange shadow clung to the truck's bed, Monda may whistled again. Flowers began to sing.

Two

Randy watched the day pulse on and off, each beat growing longer, until a chill, drizzling morning hung about them as they entered the service plaza. Golden and red-leafed maples dripped beside the frost-paned buildings. They drew up beside a fuel pump.

"This is crazy," he said. "It's summer, not autumn."

"It is autumn here. Randy, and if you wanted to take the next exit and keep heading south, you could get yourself shot at by the Army of the Confederacy—or the Union Army, depending of course on just where you wind up."

"You are not joking?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. Unfortunately, I'm beginning to believe you. But what's to prevent Lee's men from marching along the shoulder there and taking Washington—say, Coolidge's Washington? Or Elsenhower's? Or Jackson's?"

"Did you ever come upon the Road by yourself, or even hear of it?"

"No."

"Only certain people or machines can find it and travel it. I do not know why. The Road is an organic thing. This is a part of its nature, and of its travelers'."

"What if I hadn't been one of them?"

"I might have been able to bring you, anyhow. Much can depend on the guide."