ss. At 0640, the meal would be
over, and conversation would be allowed until 0645. Then, the inspection
of the fire control system from 0650 until 0750. Then--

He forced his mind away from it, tried not to think of the pleasant,
regular orderly routine by which he had lived his life for a quarter of
a century and more.

When the woman's voice came again, it was a relief.

"What's a Guesser?"

He told her as best he could, trying to couch his explanation in terms
that would be understood by a woman of her limited vocabulary and
intelligence. He was not too sure he succeeded, but it was a relief to
talk about it. He could almost feel himself dropping into the routine
that he used in the orientation courses for young Guessers who had been
assigned to him for protection and instruction.

"Accurate predicting of this type is not capable of being taught to all
men; unless a man has within him the innate ability to be a Guesser, he
is as incapable of learning Guessing as a blind man is incapable of
being taught to read." (It occurred to him at that moment to wonder how
the Class Six woman had managed to read the Breach of Contract notice.
He would have to ask her later.) "On the other hand, just as the mere
possession of functioning eyes does not automatically give one the
ability to read, neither does the genetic inheritance of Guesser
potentialities enable one to make accurate, useful Guesses. To make this
potentiality into an ability requires years of hard work and practice.

"You must learn to concentrate, to focus your every attention on the job
at hand, to--"

He broke off suddenly. The woman was standing in the doorway, holding a
plate and a steaming mug. Her eyes were wide with puzzlement and
astonishment. "You mean _me_?"

"No ... no." He shook his head. "I ... was thinking of something else."

She came on in, carrying the food. "You got tears in your eyes. You
hurt?"

He wanted to say _yes_. He wanted to tell her how he was hurt and why.
But the words wouldn't--or couldn't--come. "No," he said. "My eyes are
just a little blurry, that's all. From sleep."

She nodded, accepting his statements. "Here. You eat you this. Put some
stuffing in you belly."

He ate, not caring what the food tasted like. He didn't speak, and
neither did she, for which he was thankful. Conversation during a meal
would have been both meaningless and painful to him.

It was odd to think that, in a way, a Class Six had more freedo