"I meant socially, not professionally."

"Well!"

"You are offended? I've come to admire you without ever having seen you. Now I would like to see you. I'm not trying to curry favor."

"I believe you. Grant me the respect of believing that I studied your psych scores before I accepted the Board's choice. No, I'm not offended; I'm flattered. Dinner together sometime, perhaps?"

"Certainly. But I had more in mind. What would you say to 'Seven Hours of Ecstasy'?"

There was a short pause, which felt long. The Master Chief Technician said, "Colleague, what sex are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not. I accept. Now?"

"If it suits you."

"It does. I was simply going to my compartment, read a while, and sleep. Shall we go there?"

"I was thinking of taking you to Elysium."

"No need to. Ecstasy is in the heart. But thank you."

"I can afford it. Uh, I'm not dependent on my salary. I can easily afford the best Elysium has to offer."

"Perhaps another time, dear colleague. But a resident's compartment here in the Clinic is quite comfortable and at least an hour closer not counting the time we would waste getting out of isolation armor and dressed to face the public. We'll go straight to my place. I find I'm eager. Goodness, I haven't chanced this sort of lark in-far too long."

Four minutes later the Master Chief Technician let them into the compartment-large, as promised, and handsome and airy-a "happy" suite. A simulacrum fire blazed merrily in a corner fireplace and cast dancing lights around the lounging room. "You'll find a guests' dressing room through that door, 'fresher beyond it. The chute for disposables is on the left, racks for helmets and isolation gear on the right. Need help?"

"No, thank you, I'm quite limber."

"Well, shout if you need anything. Meet me here in front of the fire in ten minutes, say?"

"Suits."

The Associate Tech came out in only a little over ten minutes, free at last of isolation armor and looking even shorter in bare feet and without helmet. The Master Chief Tech looked up from the hearth rug. "Oh, there you are! You're male! I'm surprised. But pleased."

"And you're female. And I am very pleased. But I don't believe for an instant that you are surprised. You've seen my records."

"No, dear," she denied. "Not your personal dossier, just the brief the Board supplies to a prospective supervisor-and they are meticulously careful to keep name and sex and other irrelevancies out of it; their computer program sees to that. I did not know, and my guess was wrong."

"I didn't try to guess. But I certainly am pleased. I don't know why I have this special liking for tall women. But I do. Stand up and let me look at you."

She squirmed lazily. "What an irrational criterion. All women are the same height-lying down. So come lie down here; it's very comfortable."

"Woman, when I say 'Stand up!' I expect action."

She giggled. "You're an atavism. But pretty." She made a long arm, got him by an ankle, snatched him off balance. He went down. "That's better. Now we're the same height."

She said. "Would you like a middle-of-the-night lunch? Sleepyhead."

He said, "I did doze off, didn't I? I had reason. Yes, I would. What am I being offered?"

"Name it, just name it. If I don't have it, I'll send for it. I'm feeling very-mellow toward you, dear."

"All right, how about ten tall sixteen-year-old redheaded virgins? Girls, I mean."

"Yes, darling. Nothing is too good for my Galahad. Although if you insist on certified virgins, it may take longer. Why this fetish, dear man? Your psych profiles didn't hint at any exotic abnormality."

"Cancel that order and make it one dish of mango ice cream."

"Yes, sir, I'll send for it at once. Or you can have fresh peach ice cream instantly. Tease. I haven't been bothered by that sort of teasing since I was sixteen myself. A long time ago."

"I'll settle for peach. A very long time ago."

"Right away, dearest man. Will you eat it with a spoon, or shall I plaster it on your face? Nor by that sort of teasing. I've had one rejuvenation just as you have had, and I keep my cosmetic age younger than yours."

"A man needs to look mature."

"And a woman prefers to look young; we always have. But I know not only your rejuvenated age, but your calendar age, Galahad-and my calendar age is less than yours. Want to know how I know, dear? I recognized you the instant I saw you. I helped rejuvenate you, darling-and I'm most pleased that I did."

"The devil you say!"

"But I am pleased, dear man. Such a nice bonus, and so unexpected. One so seldom sees a client again. Galahad, do you realize that we did not use any of the routine to insure an ecstatic holiday together? Yet I haven't missed it. I feel younger and happier than I have in years. Still do."

"Me, too. Except that I don't see any peach ice cream.

"Pig. Beast. Brute. I'm bigger than you are; I'll trip you and fall on you. How many scoops, dear?"

"Oh, just pile it in until your arm gets tired; I need to restore my strength."

He followed her into the pantry, served them both with heaping dishes of ice cream. "Just a precaution," he said, "so I won't get it plastered in my face."

"Oh, tut, now! You don't really think I would do that to my Galahad."

"You're a very erratic female, Ishtar. I have bruises to prove it."

"Nonsense! I was gentle."

"You don't know your own strength. And you are bigger than I am, as you noted. Instead of 'Ishtar' I should have named you for that-what was her name? Queen of the Amazons in Old Home mythology."

"'Hippolyta,' dear. But I can't qualify as an Amazon, for reasons you were flattering about...in an infantile way."

"Complaints, huh? Over in Surgery they could correct your disqualification in ten minutes and never leave a scar. Never mind, 'Ishtar' fits you better. But there is something unfair about this."

"How, dear? Let's take this in and eat in front of the fire."

"Suits. Like this, Ishtar. You tell me I was your client and that you recall both my ages, so by masterly logic I deduce that you know my registered name and Family, and you may even remember some of my genealogy since you must have studied it for my rejuvenation. But by the customs of 'Seven Hours' I am precluded from even trying to learn your registered name. I have to tag you in my mind as 'that tall blond Master Chief Technician who-'"

"I still have enough ice cream to plaster you!"

"-permitted me to call her "Ishtar" for the happiest seven hours of my life.' Which are almost over and I don't know that you will let me take you to Elysium someday."

"Galahad, you are the most exasperating sweetheart I've ever had. Of course you can take me to Elysium. And you don't have to go home at the end of seven hours. And my registered name is Ishtar. But if you ever mention my rank other than when necessary, on duty, you'll have real bruises to remember me by. Big ones."

"Bully. I'm scared. I do think I should leave on time, so that you can get your quota of sleep before we're due back on watch. But what's this about your name really being 'Ishtar'? Did I roll five aces when we named each other?"

"Yes and no."

"Is that an answer?"

"I had one of the standard Family names of my lineage- and never liked it. But I was delighted and flattered by the pillow name you gave me. So while you were napping, I called Archives and changed my name. I'm 'Ishtar' now."

He stared at her. "Is that true?"

"Don't look frightened, dear. I won't trap you, I won't even bruise you. I'm not domestic, not at all. You would be shocked if you knew how long it has been since a man was last in this compartment. You are free to leave whenever you wish; you committed yourself to me for only seven hours. But you need not leave. You and I are skipping tomorrow's watch."