s about why memories are unimpaired when you time-jump
forward and lost when you reverse the process, but let's stick to
business. We have what we wanted; now let's use what we have."

"I never liked the way you made your money," a dark-faced, cadaverous
man said, "but when you talk, it makes sense. Let's get on with it."

Benson used the brief silence which followed to study the six. With the
exception of the two who had just spoken, there was the indefinable mark
of the fanatic upon all of them--people fanatical about different
things, united for different reasons in a single purpose. It reminded
him sharply of some teachers' committee about to beard a school-board
with an unpopular and expensive recommendation.

Anthony--the oldest of the lot, in a knee-length tunic--turned to
Gregory.

"I believe you had better...." he began.

"As to who we are, we'll explain that, partially, later. As for your
question, 'Where am I?' that will have to be rephrased. If you ask,
'When and where am I?' I can furnish a rational answer. In the temporal
dimension, you are fifty years futureward of the day of your death;
spatially, you are about eight thousand miles from the place of your
death, in what is now the World Capitol, St. Louis."

Nothing in the answer made sense but the name of the city. Benson
chuckled.

"What happened; the Cardinals conquer the world? I knew they had a good
team, but I didn't think it was that good."

"No, no," Gregory told him earnestly. "The government isn't a theocracy.
At least not yet. But if The Guide keeps on insisting that only
beautiful things are good and that he is uniquely qualified to define
beauty, watch his rule change into just that."

"I've been detecting symptoms of religious paranoia, messianic
delusions, about his public statements...." the woman began.

"Idolatry!" another member of the group, who wore a black coat fastened
to the neck, and white neck-bands, rasped. "Idolatry in deed, as well as
in spirit!"

* * * * *

The sense of unreality, partially dispelled, began to return. Benson
dropped to the floor and stood beside the table, getting a cigarette out
of his pocket and lighting it.

"I made a joke," he said, putting his lighter away. "The fact that none
of you got it has done more to prove that I am fifty years in the future
than anything any of you could say." He went on to explain who the St.
Louis Cardinals were.

"Yes; I remembe