Scyth Radnor was pleased with himself. The trip had gone well. He
was back on Earth and the barytrine generator was running in the
warm-up cycle, building its field to the magnitude necessary for
synchronization to the fabric of space stress caused by the planet
Earth. It had not been difficult to maneuver himself into this position
of having to run the barytrine generator and in doing so turn up with a
few days of vacation.
He surveyed himself in the mirror and nodded. Then he left the big
spacecraft and embarked on an errand that looked very interesting
indeed.
Eventually, with no adventure worth reporting, Scyth found himself
standing before a door pressing on a button.
Barbara Crandall cracked the door an inch or so and peered out. "Yes?"
she asked. Barbara was not expecting any visitors, and her natural
reaction was to open the door only a few inches until she determined
the person making the call. But the sight of this man in faultless
whites caused her to open the door a full two feet.
"Miss Crandall, I--"
"I don't think I--"