all, such a long time--

He stopped, Time? _Time?_

What had Contarini said about time? Something about its being like a
river that flowed rapidly--that much he remembered. Oh, yes--and that it
was almost impossible to try to swim backwards against the current or
... something else. What?

He shook his head. The more he tried to remember what his fellow
prisoner had told him, the more elusive it became.

He had traveled in time, that much was certain, but how far, and in
which direction? Toward the future, obviously; Contarini had made it
plain that going into the past was impossible. Then could he, Broom, get
back to his own time, or was he destined to stay in this--place?
Wherever and whenever it was.

Evidently movement through the time-river had a tendency to disorganize
a man's memories. Well, wasn't that obvious anyway? Even normal movement
through time, at the rate of a day per day, made some memories fade. And
some were lost entirely, while others remained clear and bright. What
would a sudden jump of centuries do?

His memory was improving, though. If he just let it alone, most of it
would come back, and he could orient himself. Meanwhile, he might as
well explore his surroundings a little more. He resolved to keep his
hands off anything that wasn't readily identifiable.

* * * * *

There was a single oddly-shaped chair by the bulky table, and behind the
chair was a heavy curtain which apparently covered a window. He could
see a gleam of light coming through the division in the curtains.

Broom decided he might as well get a good look at whatever was outside
the building he was in. He stepped over, parted the curtains, and--

--And gasped!

It was night time outside, and the sky was clear. He recognized the
familiar constellations up there. But they were dimmed by the light from
the city that stretched below him.

And what a city! At first, it was difficult for his eyes to convey their
impressions intelligently to his brain. What they were recording was so
unfamiliar that his brain could not decode the messages they sent.

There were broad, well-lit streets that stretched on and on, as far as
he could see, and beyond them, flittering fairy bridges rose into the
air and arched into the distance. And the buildings towered over
everything. He forced himself to look down, and it made him dizzy. The
building he was in was so high that it would have projected through t