score of revolutions. It dominates
the younger, more dynamic, Pest which stretches out on the flat plains
to the east so that though you stand on the Harmashatarhegy hill of
Buda and strain your eyes, you are hard put to find the furtherest
limits of Pest.

The jetport was on the outskirts of Pest, and the craft carrying
Nadine Haer, Joseph Mauser and Max Mainz, settled in for a gentle
landing, the autopilot more delicate far than human eye served by
human hand.

Max, his eyes glued to the window, said, "Well, gee, it don't look
much different than a lotta the other towns we passed over."

Nadine looked at him and laughed. She alone of the three of them had
ever been outside the boundaries of the West-world having attended
several international medical conventions. Over the years, the Frigid
Fracas had laid its chill on tourism, so that now travel between
West-world and Sov-world was all but unknown, and even visiting the
Neut-world was considered a bit far out and somewhat suspect of going
beyond the old time way of doing things--even among the Uppers.
Securing a passport for a Middle's trip, not to speak of a Lower's,
involved such endless bureaucratic red tape as to be nonsensical.

Nadine said to Joe's batman, "What did you expect, Max?"

"Well, I don't know, Miss Haer. I mean, Dr. Haer. Kind of gloomier,
like. Shucks, I've seen this here town on Telly a dozen times."

"And seeing is believing," Joe muttered cynically. "It looks as though
we have a reception committee." He looked at Nadine. "Are we supposed
to know each other?"

She shrugged and made a moue. "It would be somewhat strange if we
didn't, seeing that we flew over in the same aircraft, and were the
only passengers to come this far."

He nodded and as the plane came to a halt, helped her from her chair,
even as the plane's ladder slipped out and touched to the ground.

Joe grunted and said, as though to himself, "You realize that for all
practical purposes there hasn't been any improvement in aircraft for a
generation?"

Nadine looked at him from the side of her eyes, even as they
descended. "That's what I keep telling you, Joe. We've become
ossified. When a society, afraid of change, adopts a policy of
maintaining the _status quo_ at any cost, progress is arrested.
Progress _means_ change."

He grinned at her. "Sure, sure, sure. Please, no more lectures,
teacher. Let what's already in my head stew a while."

* * *