"And I suppose that the Blaines came likewise?"
Barry nodded.
Les Ackerman shook his head. "I've been shoved around so much, that I
see little reason in bringing this gang through so that you can all
shove me around. I'd like to go back myself."
"You can never go back," said Barry, sincerely. "And you'll find that
living in this 'time-space' is not the bed of roses it might seem. It
gets goddam lonesome. You'll get wild for the touch of an honest whim.
We bring through only what we plan ahead for; you must plan every
item, Ackerman, which leaves the chance-factor of living completely
out. There is no getting up in the middle of the night to take a run
to the corner drugstore for a cup of coffee. Or calling up your girl
for a quick date as a pleasant surprise. If you hope to do something
like that, you've got to plan it ahead and say to yourself: '_On the
seventieth evening in 'time-space', I shall surprise my beloved by
presenting her with--something very unperishable._' I'm sorry that I
cannot help you, Ackerman."
"You might have brought the equipment through with you."
"Or a model? No go, Ackerman; the thing isn't like a radio set or
a small cyclotron. It's more a matter of force fields and energy
gradients, as I too-vaguely understand it."
"Why didn't anybody think to ship through a physicist?"
Ford snapped the communicator on and called: "Fellows, come here, all
of you!"
Louis Ford came first, and Tod Laplane. Then a striking brunette
that Ackerman had not seen before--and for whom Barry said, quickly:
"This is Tod's sister Joan; she's here as a general statistician and
recorder, and not for the purpose of enticing you."
"That's not very complimentary to either of us," said Ackerman.
Joan smiled honestly. "No, it isn't. But it is true, Lester. You see,
I'm a gatherer of facts; I know how people have been trying to use you.
I promise--we will not."