Jeff looked blank. "What are they doing then?"

The little man spread his hands. "What are the people doing now at

Sixth and Main? Certainly not the same things they were doing the day

of the fire. We're talking about a dimension, not an event. Don't you

grasp the difference between the two?"

"Nope. To me, 1865 means the end of the Civil War. How else can you

speak of a point in time except by the events that happened then?"

"Well, if you go to a place in three-dimensional space--say, a lake

in the mountains--how do you identify that place? By looking for

landmarks. It doesn't matter that an eagle is soaring over a mountain

peak. That's only an event. The peak is the landmark. You follow me?"

"So far. Keep talking."

* * * * *

The little man looked pleased. "Very well. In the fourth

dimension--which is time--you do the same thing. You look around to see

what is visible where you are. My contemporaries can see that freedom

is unnecessary, that time travel is practical. Your people have not

reached that place in time yet. But yours can see the technical facts

about color television. Those facts are not visible yet to anyone here."

"You mean that these inventions--"

"Oh, no, no, no, Mr. Elliott," the little man said indignantly. "Don't

call them inventions. There are no inventions. None. There are only

truths--scientific principles waiting through eternity for someone to

discover them."

"I must be dense, but--"

"Did your Columbus invent America? Did someone invent fire? The

possibility of time travel, of color television, of any phase of social

progress--these are facts. They stand up in the time dimension like

mountains. Waves of humanity meander through the time dimension like

caravans of immigrants crossing a continent. The first man in any wave

to see the mountain peak claims that he 'invented' it. Soon it is

clearly visible to everyone. While the people of my wave know of time

travel, there are human caravans, following us many years back in time,

just now discovering steam."

"Then the reason your people won't accept my money--"

"Yah." The little lawyer nodded. "Your money is an outgrowth of your

history. It bears the name your people gave to the society they

built--the United States. This has no meaning to a different wave of

humanity, with a different history. These people here have reached this

point in time six years behind the humanity you traveled with."

"Can I get back to my own time, my own wave of humanity?"

"Not unless you know how." The lawyer grinned. "To be perfectly frank,

Mr. Elliott, there is no hope of your going back. Either work for

Bullen or live out your life in a mental institution. No one else will

give you work and no one will believe your story."

Jeff clamped his teeth. If a crook like Snader could move freely back

and forth in time, there must be a way for Jeff to do it. Meanwhile, he

would pretend to be a humble and obedient servant.

"Okay," he said to the lawyer. "I'm convinced. Get me out."

"Snader is waiting with a car," the man said. "He'll meet you and your

wife outside. I'll free her at once, then go about my business."

* * * * *

Snader was standing beside the limousine. He looked Ann up and down. "I

like you, little lady. Soon I know you better."

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