"Can't I give it away?"

"Certainly—but not to Gordon."

Perry scratched his head. "No, I guess not. Say, what is this voluntary abdication stuff?"

"I'm not able to give a scientific account of it, but so far as anyone else is concerned it amounts to suicide by willing not to live."

"Then Gordon is dead?"

"No. Not according to the ideas of the people who monkey with these things. He simply was not interested in living here and chose to live elsewhere."

"How come his body is here okay?"

"According to this report Gordon's body—this body—" She pinched his cheeks. "—has been lying quietly in a state of arrested animation in the Sanctuary on the other side of this mountain. And so the mystery is partially cleared up."

His wrinkled brow showed no satisfaction. "Yes, I suppose so. But each mystery is explained with another mystery."

"There is just one mystery left that worries me, Perry, and that is why in the world you didn't break a leg and maybe your brand-new neck in getting over here. But I'm glad you didn't."

"So am I. Lord!"

"But now I must get to work." She stacked the supper dishes as she spoke.

"What work?"

"My paid work. I am not one of the ascetic souls that are content with their heritage checks. I've got to have money for ribbons and geegaws."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a televue actress, Perry. I dance and sing a little, and occasionally take part in stories."

"Are you about to rehearse?"

"No, I go on the waves in about twenty minutes."

"Goodness, the studio must be close by or you'll be late."

"Oh, no. It will be picked up from here. But you will have to be a good boy and sit still and not ask questions for a while or I shall be late. Come. Sit over here. Now face the receiver so." Another section of the wall flew up and Perry faced a flat screen. "There you can see the whole performance and watch me dance directly too." She opened the communicator drawer and raised the small screen. A rather homely debonair young man appeared. He wore a helmet with bulges over his ears. A cigarette drooped from one corner of his sardonic mouth.

"Hi, Dian'."

"Hello, Larry. Where j'a get the circles under your eyes?"

"That from you—and you so huffy about the private sphere of action. I had a blonde paint 'em on."

"She got the left one crooked."

"Cut out the arcing and get down to work, wench. Got your setup made?"

"Yeah."

"OK, testing." Lights sprang out from the near end of the room. Diana walked to the center of the room, turned around twice, and walked back and forth and up and down, then returned to the communicator.

"OK, Larry?"

"There's a halo in the lower left and it's not in my side, I don't believe."

"I'll take a look." She returned with the tube that had contained the Gordon dossier in her hand. "Gone now, Larry?"

"Yeah, what was it?"

"This." She held up the tube.

"Just like a female. Can't integrate. Sloppy minds, unable to—"

"Larry, one more crack out of you and I'll report you for atavism—probably Neanderthal."

"Cool down, small one. You have a super-magnificent brain. I love you for your intellect. Time's running short. Want some music?"

"Give it a blast.—Okay, turn it off."

"What are you giving the mob tonight, Dian'?"

"Highbrow stuff. Watch it—you might get an idea."

He glanced down at his controls. "Take your place, kid. I'm clearing."

Diana went quickly to the middle of the room and the lights went out. The larger screen facing Perry came suddenly to life. Facing him in stereo and color was a brisk young man, who bowed and smiled and commenced to speak: "Friends, we are again in the studios of the Magic Carpet in the tower of the Edison Memorial overlooking Lake Michigan. We bring you tonight your favorite interpreter of the modern theme in dance, lovely Diana, who will present another stanza in the Poem of Life."

The colors on the screen melted together, then faded to a light blue and a single high clear crystal note impinged on Perry's ears. The note trembled, then pursued a minor melody. Perry felt a mood of sadness and nostalgia creep over him. Gradually the orchestra picked up the theme and embroidered it while on the screen the colors shifted, blended, and ranged in patterns. Finally the colors faded and the screen went dark as the harmony wafted out of the music leaving a violin alone carrying the theme in the darkness. A dim finger of light appeared and picked out a small figure far back. The figure was prone, limp, helpless . The music conveyed a feeling of pain and despair and overpowering fatigue. But another theme encouraged, called for effort, and the figure stirred gently. Perry glanced over his shoulder and had to exert self control to refrain from going to the poor forlorn creature's assistance. Diana needed help, his heart told him, go to her! But he sat quietly and watched and listened. Perry knew little about dancing and nothing about it as a high art. Ballroom dancing for himself and tap dancing to watch were about his level. He watched with intent appreciation the graceful, apparently effortless movements of the girl, without any realization of the training, study and genius that had gone before. But gradually he realized that he was being told a story of the human spirit, a story of courage, and hope, and love overcoming despair and physical hurt. He came to with a start when the dance ended leaving Diana with arms flung out, face to the sky, eyes shining, and smiling in joy as a single bright warm light poured over her face and breast. He felt happier than he had since his arrival—happy and relieved.

The screen went dark, then the ubiquitous young man re-appeared. Diana cut him off before he spoke, switched on the room lights and turned to Perry. He was surprised to see that she appeared shy and fussed.

"Did you like it, Perry?"

"Like it? Diana, you were glorious, incredible. I—I can't express it."

"I'm glad.

"And now I'm going to eat and we can visit some more."

"But you just had dinner."

"You didn't watch me closely. I don't eat much before dancing. But now watch—I'll probably get it down on the floor and worry it like an animal. Are you hungry?"

"No, not yet."

"Could you drink a cup of chocolate?"

"Yes, thanks."

A few minutes later they were seated on the couch, Diana with her legs curled up under her, a cup of chocolate in one hand, an enormous sandwich in the other. She ate busily and greedily. Perry was amused to think that this hungry little girl was that unearthly glorious creature of a few minutes before. She finished, hiccoughed, looked surprised and murmured, "Excuse me," then wiped up with one finger a blob of mayonnaise which had dropped on her tummy and transferred it to her mouth. "Now, Perry, let's take stock. Where are we?"

"Damned if I know. I know where I am and when I am and you tell me that I know who I am. Gordon zip zip zip and six zeros, but I might as well be a day old baby as for knowing what to do about it."

"Not so bad as that, Perry. In addition to an identity you have acquired a nice credit account, not large but adequate and your heritage check will keep you going, too."

"What is this heritage check business?"

"Let's not go into that now. When you study the economic system you'll understand. Right now it means a hundred and fifty dollars, more or less, every month. You could live comfortably on two-thirds of that, if you wanted to. What I wanted to talk about was the 'what to do about it' aspect."

"Where do we start?"

"I can't decide what you are to do about anything, but it seems to me that the very first thing to do is to bring you up to date so that you will fit in twenty-eighty-six. It is a rather different world. You must learn a lot of new customs and a century-and-a-half of history and a number of new techniques and so forth. When you are up to date, you can decide for yourself what you want to do—and then you can do anything you want."