“I don’t think that’s true of Ben Reich,” Powell replied, striking the noble note. “I rather admire him.”

“Of course. Of course,” Jordan agreed hastily. “After all, he does have a conscience. That’s admirable indeed. I wouldn’t want him to think that I—”

“Naturally.” Powell became a fellow-conspirator and captivated Jordan with a grin. “As fellow scientists we can deplore; but as men of the world we can only praise.”

“You do understand.” Jordan shook Powell’s hand effusively.

And at 4:00 P.M., Dr. Jordan informed the genuflecting Japanese that he would gladly volunteer his most secret work on Visual Purple to these fine youngsters to aid them in their own research. He was handing on the torch to the next generation. His eyes moistened and his throat choked with sentiment as he spent twenty minutes carefully describing the Rhodopsin Ionizer he had developed for Monarch.

At 5:00 P.M., the Guild scientists escorted Dr. Jordan by launch to his Callisto Rocket. They filled his stateroom with gifts and flowers; they filled his ears with grateful testimonials, and he accelerated toward Jupiter’s IV^th Satellite with the pleasant knowledge that he had materially benefited science and never betrayed that fine and generous patron, Mr. Benjamin Reich.

Barbara was in the living room on all-fours, crawling energetically. She had just been fed and her face was eggy.

“Hajajajajaja,” she said. “Haja.”

“Mary! Come quick! She’s talking!”

“No!” Mary ran in from the kitchen. “What’d she say?”

“She called me Dada.”

“Haja,” said Barbara. “Hajajajahajaja.”

Mary blasted him with scorn. “She said nothing of the kind. She said Haja.” She returned to the kitchen.

“She meant Dada. Is it her fault if she’s too young to articulate?” Powell knelt alongside Barbara. “Say Dada, baby. Dada? Dada? Say Dada.”

“Haja,” Barbara replied with an enchanting drool.

Powell gave it up. He went down past the conscious level to the preconscious.

Hello, Barbara.

“You again?”

Remember me?

“I don’t know.”

Sure you do. I’m the guy who pries into your private little turmoil down here. We fight it out together.

“Just the two of us?”

Just the two of us. Do you know who you are? Would you like to know why you’re buried way down here in this solitary existence?

“I don’t know. Tell me.”

Well, dear infant, once upon a time you were like this before… an entity merely existing. Then you were born. You had a mother and a father. You grew up into a lovely girl with blonde hair and dark eyes and a sweet graceful figure. You traveled from Mars to earth with your father and you were—

“No. There’s no one but you. Just the two of us together in the darkness.”

There was your father, Barbara.

“There was no one. There is no one else.”

I’m sorry dear. I’m really sorry, but we must go through the agony again. There’s something I have to see.

“No. No… please. It’s just the two of us alone together. Please, dear spook…”

It’ll be just the two of us together, Barbara. Stay close, dear. There was your father in the other room… the orchid room… and suddenly we heard something… Powell took a deep breath and cried: “Help, Barbara. Help—”