So clean we did, but by noon Eleanor could no longer stand. So Itook her home with me, because we were working down near the harborsection and my place was nearer.

That's almost the whole story--light to darkness to light--exceptfor the end, which I don't really know. I'll tell you of itsbeginning, though...

I dropped her off at the head of the alleyway, and she went on towardmy apartment while I parked the car. Why didn't I keep her with me?I don't know. Unless it was because the morning sun made the worldseem at peace, despite its filth. Unless it was because I was in loveand the darkness was over, and the spirit of the night had surelydeparted.

I parked the car and started up the alley. I was halfway beforethe corner where I had met the org when I heard her cry out.

I ran. Fear gave me speed and strength and I ran to the cornerand turned it.

The man had a bag, not unlike the one Chuck had carried away withhim, lying beside the puddle in which he stood. He was going throughEleanor's purse, and she lay on the ground--so still!--with blood on theside of her head.

I cursed and ran toward him, switching on my cane as I went. Heturned, dropped her purse, and reached for the gun in his belt.

We were about thirty feet apart, so I threw my cane.

He drew his gun, pointed it at me, and my cane fell into thepuddle in which he stood.

Flights of angels sang him to his rest, perhaps.

She was breathing, so I got her inside and got hold of a doctor--Idon't remember how, not too clearly, anyway--and I waited and waited.

She lived for another twelve hours and then she died. Sherecovered consciousness twice before they operated on her, and notagain after. She didn't say anything. She smiled at me once, andwent to sleep again.

I don't know.

Anything, really.

It happened that I became Betty's mayor, to fill in untilNovember, to oversee the rebuilding. I worked, I worked my head off,and I left her bright and shiny, as I had found her. I think I couldhave won if I had run for the job that fall, but I did not want it.

The Town Council overrode my objections and voted to erect astatue of Godfrey Justin Holmes beside the statue of Eleanor Schirrerwhich was to stand in the Square across from cleaned-up Wyeth. Iguess it's out there now.

I said that I would never return, but who knows? In a couple ofyears, after some more history has passed, I may revisit a Betty fullof strangers, if only to place a wreath at the foot of the one statue.Who knows but that the entire continent may be steaming and clankingand whirring with automation by then, and filled with people fromshore to shining shore?

There was a Stopover at the end of the year and I waved goodbyeand climbed aboard and went away, anywhere.

I went aboard and went away, to sleep again the cold sleep.

Delirium of ship among stars--

Years have passed, I suppose. I'm not really counting themanymore. But I think of this thing often: Perhaps there _is_ a GoldenAge someplace, a Renaissance for me sometime, a special timesomewhere, somewhere but a ticket, a visa, a diary-page away. I don'tknow where or when. Who does? Where are all the rains of yesterday?

In the invisible city?

Inside me?

It is cold and quiet outside and the horizon is infinity. Thereis no sense of movement.

There is no moon, and the stars are very bright, like brokendiamonds, all.

Drax and Dran sat in the great Throne Hall of Glan, discussing life.Monarchs by virtue of superior intellect and physique--and the fact thatthey were the last two survivors of the race of Glan--theirs was a dividedrule over the planet and their one subject, Zindrome, the palace robot.

Drax had been musing for the past four centuries (theirs was a sluggishsort) over the possibility of life on other planets in the galaxy.

Accordingly, "Dran," said he, addressing the other (who was becomingmildly curious as to his thoughts), "Dran, I've been thinking. There may belife on other planets in the galaxy."

Dran considered his response to this, as the world wheeled severaltimes about its sun.

"True," he finally agreed, "there may."

After several months Drax shot back, "If there is, we ought to findout."

"Why?" asked Dran with equal promptness, which caused the other tosuspect that he, too, had been thinking along these lines.

So he measured his next statement out cautiously, first testing eachword within the plated retort of his reptilian skull.

"Our kingdom is rather underpopulated at present," he observed. "Itwould be good to have many subjects once more."

Dran regarded him askance, then slowly turned his head. He closed oneeye and half-closed the other, taking full stock of his co-ruler, whoseappearance, as he had suspected, was unchanged since the last time he hadlooked.

"That, also, is true," he noted. "What do you suggest we do?"

This time Drax turned, reappraising him, eye to eye.

I think we ought to find out if there is life on other planets in thegalaxy."

"Hmm."

Two quick rounds of the seasons went unnoticed, then, "Let me thinkabout it," he said, and turned away.

After what he deemed a polite period of time, Drax coughed.

"Have you thought sufficiently?"

"No."

Drax struggled to focus his eyes on the near-subliminal streak ofbluish light which traversed, re-traversed and re-re-traversed the Hall ashe waited.

"Zindrome!" he finally called out.

The robot slowed his movements to a statue-like immobility toaccommodate his master. A feather duster protruded from his right limb.

"You called, great Lord of Glan?"

"Yes, Zindrome, worthy subject. Those old spaceships which weconstructed in happier days, and never got around to using. Are any of themstill capable of operation?"

"I'll check, great Lord."

He seemed to change position slightly.

"There are three hundred eighty-two," he announced, "of which four arein functioning condition, great Lord. I've checked all the operatingcircuits."

"Drax," warned Dran, "you are arrogating unauthorized powers toyourself once more. You should have conferred with me before issuing thatorder."

"I apologize," stated the other. "I simply wanted to expedite matters,should your decision be that we conduct a survey."

"You have anticipated my decision correctly," nodded Dran, "but youreagerness seems to bespeak a hidden purpose."

"No purpose but the good of the realm," smiled the other.

"That may be, but the last time you spoke of 'the good of the realm'the civil strife which ensued cost us our other robot."

"I have learned my lesson and profited thereby. I shall be morejudicious in the future."

"I hope so. Now, about this investigation--which part of the galaxy doyou intend to investigate first?"

A tension-filled pause ensued.

"I had assumed," murmured Drax, "that you would conduct the expedition.Being the more mature monarch, yours should be a more adequate decision asto whether or not a particular species is worthy of our enlightened rule."

"Yes, but your youth tends to make you more active than I. The journeyshould be more expeditiously conducted by you." He emphasized the word"expeditiously."

"We could both go, in separate ships," offered Drax. "That would betruly expeditious--"

Their heated debating was cut short by a metallic cough-equivalent.

"Masters," suggested Zindrome, "the half-life of radioactive materialsbeing as ephemeral as it is, I regret to report that only one spaceship isnow in operational condition."