small
restaurant. Tom, Betty, who was the pretty blonde, Ralph and the
pretty brunette whose name was Marsha, Pierce, himself and Sheila. The
talk ranged wildly over a multitude of subjects, breaking sometimes
into collective fantasies of nonsense like a hat full of fireworks
that left them laughing helplessly, sometimes shifting to philosophy
and mutual confidences. Every so often Pierce brought the subject
around to something that struck home to Bryce and he found himself
holding forth with unexpected passion and eloquence, and he was
surprised to see that the others were keenly interested.

Pierce rarely said more than an occasional cheerful remark, but in the
more subtle plays of conversation Bryce found himself still half
consciously consulting the cues of his expression to find what his own
reaction should be, to find the right word and the right attitude that
pleased the table and urged them all on to greater and more fantastic
heights of talk. It was obvious that Pierce never had any difficulty
understanding anyone. He had an instinct that Bryce lacked, and Bryce
willingly surrendered to superior skill and followed his silent lead.

Sheila he discovered, besides being a member of one of the top
diplomatic families, had worked for a short while as a consultant at
the Belt plastic manufactory when it was being set up, and had taken
to space life. She shared his enthusiasm about the future of the
Asteroid Belts.

It was an unprecedented evening. At the close of it he had four new
friends, and had discovered that "Tom" was Thomas Mayernick, one of
the attorneys of the Spaceways Commission, and one of the men whom he
had gone to the dinner to meet.

And Sheila, tall and slender and beautiful, pressed his hand as the
group parted, and said in her wonderful voice, "I want to see you
again Bryce," she smiled. "I eat at the technicians' end of town, you
know. I'll be with a Group at Geiger's Counter, tomorrow lunch. If you
bear the company of slide rule artists we'd be glad to see you any
time."

He stood for a moment, oddly surprised.

"Say thank you to the lady." Pierce smiled. And to Sheila, "You
shouldn't startle people like that, Ma'm. His heart's weak."

"I just dropped dead," Bryce said, finding words. "You aren't leading
me on? You'll be there?"

"On my honor," she smiled. "Good night, Bryce." She was used to such
tributes. Half mocking as they were, she knew how much they were
basically sincere, and a