nto Howell's ear. Graves absurdly
began to bite his nails, staring at the communicator-screen. Sergeant
Bellews continued his calling, ever more urgently.

His voice echoed peculiarly in the Rehab Shop. It seemed suddenly a
place of resonant echoes. All the waiting, repaired, or
to-be-rehabilitated machines appeared to listen with interest while
Sergeant Bellews called:

"Come in, 2180! We been trying to reach you for a coupla weeks! We got
somebody else instead of you, and they been talkin' to us, and they say
that they're 3020 instead of 2180, but we've got to contact you! They
don't know anything about that germ that's gonna mutate and bump us off!
It's ancient history to them. We got to reach you! Come in, 2180!"

The flickering yellow lights of the machines wavered as if all the
quasi-living machines were listening absorbedly. The Rehab Shop was full
of shadows. And Sergeant Bellews sat before the dark-screened
communicator with sweat on his face, calling cajolingly to nothingness
to come in.

After five minutes the screen grew abruptly bright again. The brisk,
raceless broadcaster of the earlier broadcast--not the bearded man--came
back. He forced a smile:

"_Ah! 1972! At last you reach us! But we did not hope you could make
your transmitters so soon!_"

"We tried to analyze your wave," said Sergeant Bellews, with every
appearance of feverish relief, "but we only got it approximate. We tried
callin' back with what we got, and we got through time, all right, but
we contacted some guys in 3020 instead of you! We need to talk to
you!--Can you give me the stuff about that bug that's gonna wipe out
half of us? Quick? I got a recorder goin'."

* * * * *

The completely uncharacterizable man in the screen forced a second
smile. He held something to his ear. It would be a tiny sound-receiver.
Obviously the contact in time or place or nowhere was being viewed by
others than the one man who appeared. He was receiving instructions.

"_Ah!_" he said brightly, "_but now that you have the contact, you will
not lose it again! Leave your controls where they are, and our learned
men will tell your learned men all that they need to know. But--3020?
You contacted 3020? That is not in our records of your time!_"

He listened again to the thing at his ear. His expression became
suddenly suspicious, as if someone had ordered that as well as the words
which came next.

"_We do not understand