an who came in
on the freight conveyor at Jandar, last month?" he asked.

If he was hoping that some of the girls would want to know, what
wild-man, it was a vain hope. With a blue-seal mavrad around, what
chance did a couple of ordinary coppers have? The girls were already
converging on Verkan Vall.

"When are you going to get that monstrosity out of our restroom," the
little redhead in green coveralls was demanding. "If it wasn't for that
thing, I'd be taking a shower, right now."

"You were just finishing one, about fifty paraseconds off, when I came
through," Verkan Vall told her.

The girl looked at him in obviously feigned indignation.

"Why, you--You _parapeeper_!"

Verkan Vall chuckled and turned to the clerk. "I want a strato-rocket
and pilot, for Dhergabar, right away. Call Dhergabar Paratime Police
Field and give them my ETA; have an air-taxi meet me, and have the chief
notified that I'm coming in. Extraordinary report. Keep a guard over
the conveyor; I think I'm going to need it, again, soon." He turned to
the little redhead. "Want to show me the way out of here, to the rocket
field?" he asked.

* * * * *

[Illustration]

Outside, on the open landing field, Verkan Vall glanced up at the sky,
then looked at his watch. It had been twenty minutes since he had backed
the jeep into the barn, on that distant other time-line; the same
delicate lines of white cirrus were etched across the blue above. The
constancy of the weather, even across two hundred thousand parayears of
perpendicular time, never failed to impress him. The long curve of the
mountains was the same, and they were mottled with the same autumn
colors, but where the little village of Rutter's Fort stood on that
other line of probability, the white towers of an apartment-city
rose--the living quarters of the plant personnel.

The rocket that was to take him to headquarters was being hoisted with
a crane and lowered into the firing-stand, and he walked briskly toward
it, his rifle and musette slung. A boyish-looking pilot was on the
platform, opening the door of the rocket; he stood aside for Verkan
Vall to enter, then followed and closed it, dogging it shut while his
passenger stowed his bag and rifle and strapped himself into a seat.

"Dhergabar Commercial Terminal, sir?" the pilot asked, taking the
adjoining seat at the controls.

"Paratime Police Field, back of the Paratime Administration Building."