The clash and clatter of trays and utensils, the din of voices, and the unrelenting drone of insipid background music which filled the busy commissary raised the noise factor to the perfect volume for contemplation. With his tray of scrambled eggs, grapefruit, and coffee he made his way to an empty table in the corner past others dining on an assortment of foods. He saw spaghetti, roast beef, tomato cups, chicken salad, pancakes, omelets, and hot dogs-breakfast, lunch, and dinner served simultaneously to accommodate the schedules of various shifts. The sight of roast beef and gravy sitting next to scrambled eggs and toast always threw him; it did not look right somehow.
Spence chewed thoughtfully and at the end of his meal was no closer to an answer than before. The missing hours were simply gone. Ten hours-maybe twelve-could not be accounted for. Not by his own memory, at any rate. He gulped the last of his tepid coffee and determined to check the scan in the lab-the scan tape would show a moment-by-moment account of his mental whereabouts on its four red wavy lines.
He entered the lab and saw that Tickler had gone. He went to the control booth and found the spool where Tickler had left it, duly cataloged and ready for filing after his inspection.
Spence snapped the seal and unrolled the strip to the beginning, watching the yards and yards of wavy lines unravel through his fingers. At the start of the tape he saw the date and time notation: EST 5/15/42 10:17 GM. The scan continued for nine-and-aquarter hours without interruption. Each peak and valley, every blip of an alpha spark or beta flash was duly recorded. He saw the even, rhythmic progress of his night's sleep. His presence was accounted for.
But what about before the scan? Where had he been? What had he done? Why couldn't he remember?
Spence rolled up the tape and resealed the spool. He had to get out of the lab and think-or not think. He decided on Central Park. …
THE HUMIDITY INCREASED NOTICEABLY as he approached the concourse entrance to the park. It was only when he smelled the slightly musty fragrance of the garden's atmosphere that he realized how flat was the carefully controlled and filtered air of the rest of the center.
He stepped down onto the turf and threw a hand up to protect his eyes from the dazzling brightness which engulfed him instantly. The solar shields, those immense louvered slats which could be opened or closed to regulate the amount of light allowed in upon the garden, were open wide in an approximation of high noon. Spence stood blinking for some moments until his eyes became used to the brilliant light, then struck along one of the many meandering pathways. He followed the path toward the center of the garden and the greensward, hoping to find an empty bench in one of the secluded nooks formed by the trees and hedges which were landscaped to provide privacy.
A quick survey of the perimeter showed that all the benches were taken, mostly by young women soaking up the sun's beneficial rays. He had just about completed the circuit when he stopped in front of the last bench. It, too, was occupied. He was about to turn away when he realized he knew the owner of the upturned face and closed eyes.
"Mind if I sit down?" he asked. The blue eyes fluttered open and a hand rose to shade them.
"Oh, Dr. Reston-Spence, I mean. Please, do sit down. I'm taking up far more than my fair share of space."
He sat down at the extreme end of the bench and looked at the young lady, realizing that he had nothing at all to say to her. He smiled. She smiled back.
Idiot! Spence shrieked to himself. Say something! The smile lingered, evaporating at the edges.
"Did you have a successful meeting?" Ari saved him by starting the conversation.
"Meeting?" Oh, no! he thought, I'm babbling again! "You've forgotten already? You had a meeting with my father-or was that some other Dr. Reston?" "Is he back then?"
"You mean Mr. Wermeyer hasn't called you yet? I could say something to him, if you like. Daddy's been busy since he got back, but you should have been called. I'll see what I can do; I have a certain amount of pull, you know."
"No, I wouldn't think of asking you. I'll wait my turn."
"Maybe it was another Dr. Reston, then. The one I had in mind was quite insistent. Very urgent-matter of life and death."
"Apparently the crisis has passed-I had time to cool off. Thanks for the offer, though. I still do want to see him."
"Well, you may be in luck if you care to wait for a little while. My father's coming down to get me when his meeting's over. We're going to lunch together. You could talk to him then."
"I wouldn't intrude-"
"Don't be silly. I don't mind. Anyway, I wouldn't have offered if I still didn't feel a little guilty about treating you so disgracefully."
"I've forgotten all about it. Believe me."
"You're nice." She smiled again, and Spence felt the warmth of it touch his face like the rays of the sun.
And in that moment, without either one of them thinking very much about it, without desiring it at all, they became friends. It was a natural thing for Ari; she had many friends, and made friends easily. For Spence, though, it was quite a different thing. He did not make friends easily-especially with women. He didn't know how to talk to them and never felt comfortable around them. So it was with a shock that he realized some time later that he had spent over an hour talking with Ari without for a moment feeling ill at ease.
And it was with a pang of genuine regret that Spence saw the portly, though dignified, form of the GM director approaching from across the lawn.
"Oh, Daddy!" shouted Ari, jumping up. Spence stood as well. "Daddy, you'll remember Dr. Reston-"
"Yes, indeed!" The man called "Daddy" held out a wide, firm hand which Spence took in his own and received vigorous shaking.
"It is good to see you again, Director Zanderson." The last time Spence had seen the director had been at a reception for the new grant winners a few days prior to making the jump.
"I am always pleased to see one of our brightest new colleagues. In fact, I believe you have your first review coming up, do you not? Yes, I believe so. I saw it on my calendar. How do you like it here, Dr. Reston? You're finding it all you hoped it would be?"
"Yes, and much more," Spence said truthfully.
"Daddy, I've asked Spence to join us for lunch. I know how you love a new audience." Ari put her arm around her father, who looked amused.
"Daughter, the decorum of my office!" She kissed him on the cheek. "What will Dr. Reston think? Tell me, did you ever see such an impertinent young lady?"
Spence was saved from having to answer by Ari who announced, "I'm starving. Let's go to lunch this instant, or you will both have to carry my limp and languishing body through the garden to the commissary. How would that suit your precious decorum?"
"Dr. Reston, I regret my daughter's shocking manners." His eyes twinkled at the sight of her. "But I reiterate her invitation. Would you join us?"
There seemed to be no graceful way out, so he said, "I'd be delighted."
6
… ThEY WERE WALKING BACK to their respective places: Spence to his lab, the director to his office, and Ari to the cultural arts center. It had been one of the most enjoyable lunches Spence could remember. They had eaten not in the commissary as he expected, but in one of Gotham's four excellent restaurants the Belles Esprit, a very commendable copy of a French cafe.
Spence had not previously visited any of the restaurants an(was surprised and pleased to find them quite different from the commissaries. He was less surprised to find that, like exclusive restaurants on Earth, they were quite expensive. The commissaries were free; the restaurants were not.