He grinned wryly, dismounted, and walked through the gate. He was not a damned Danellian either. He knocked on the door, and it opened. A middle-aged woman looked at him through the murk, and he realized it was odd to see an American in civilian clothes here.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Do you know Miss Mary Nelson?”

“Why, yes.” Hesitation. “She lives nearby. She’s coming over soon. Are you a friend?”

Everard nodded. “She sent me here with a message for you, Mrs…ah…”

“Enderby.”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Enderby. I’m terribly forgetful. Look, Miss Nelson wanted me to say she’s very sorry but she can’t come. However, she wants you and your entire family over at ten-thirty.”

“All of us, sir? But the children—”

“By all means, the children too. Every one of you. She has a very special surprise arranged, something she can only show you then. All of you have to be there.”

‘Well,…all right, sir, if she says so.”

“All of you at ten-thirty, without fail. I’ll see you then, Mrs. Enderby.” Everard nodded and walked back to the street.

He had done what he could. Next was the Nelson house. He rode his hopper three blocks down, parked it in the gloom of an alley, and walked up to the house. He was guilty too now, as guilty as Schtein. He wondered what the exile planet was like.

There was no sign of the Ing shuttle, and it was too big to conceal. So Charlie hadn’t arrived yet. He’d have to play it by ear till then.

As he knocked on the door, he wondered what his saving of the Enderby family would mean. Those children would grow up, have children of their own: quite insignificant middle-class Englishmen, no doubt, but somewhere in the centuries to come an important man would be born or fail to be born. Of course, time was not very flexible. Except in rare cases, the precise ancestry didn’t matter, only the broad pool of human genes and human society did. Still, this might be one of those rare cases.

A young woman opened the door for him. She was a pretty little girl, not spectacular but nice looking in her trim uniform. “Miss Nelson?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Everard. I’m a friend of Charlie Whitcomb. May I come in? I have a rather surprising bit of news for you.”

“I was about to go out.” she said apologetically.

“No, you weren’t.” Wrong line; she was stiffening with indignation. “Sorry. Please, may I explain?”

She led him into a drab and cluttered parlor. “Won’t you sit down, Mr. Everard? Please don’t talk too loudly. The family are all asleep. They get up early.”

Everard made himself comfortable. Mary perched on the edge of the sofa, watching him with large eyes. He wondered if Wulfnoth and Eadgar were among her ancestors. Yes…undoubtedly they were, after all these centuries. Maybe Schtein was too.

“Are you in the Air Force?” she asked. “Is that how you met Charlie?”