a troubled look.
"Sir, if we've upset you in any way-"
"No. No, not at all. I didn't sleep well today, that's the problem. But this is fine work, unquestionably very fine. I'm proud of you. To take a problem like this, one which has utterly no real-world resonance at all, which in fact is in total contradiction of real-world scientific truth, and to follow so methodically to the conclusion required by the data while succeeding in ignoring the fact that the initial premise is absurd-why, it's a splendid job, an admirable demonstration of your powers of logic, a first-rate thought-experiment-"
He saw them exchange quick glances. He wondered if he was fooling them even slightly.
"And now," he went on, "if you'll excuse me, fellows-I have another conference-"
Rolling the damning papers into a tight cylinder, Beenay shoved them under his arm and rushed past them, out the door, down the hall, practically running, heading for the safety and privacy of his own tiny office.
My God, he thought. My God, my God, my God, what have I done? And what will I do now?
He buried his head in his hands and waited for the throbbing to stop. But it didn't seem to be planning to stop. After a moment he sat up and jabbed his finger against the communicator button on his desk.
"Get me the Saro City Chronicle," he told the machine. "Theremon 762."
From the communicator came a long, maddening burst of cracklings and hissings. Then, suddenly, Theremon's deep voice:
"Features desk, Theremon 762."
"Beenay."
Chapter Five
"What's that? I can't hear what you're saying!"
Beenay realized that he hadn't managed to get out anything more than a croak. "It's Beenay, I said! I-I want to change our appointment time."
"To change it? Look, fellow, I understand how you feel about mornings, because so do I. But I've absolutely got to talk to you no later than noon tomorrow or I'll have no story here. I'll make it up to you any way I can, but-"
"You don't understand. I want to see you sooner, not later, Theremon."
"What?"
"This evening. Let's say half past nine. Or ten, if you can't make it."
"I thought you had photographs to take at the Observatory."
"The deuce with the photos, man. I need to see you."
"Need to? Beenay, what's happened? Is it something with Raissta?"
"It has nothing to do with Raissta in the slightest. Half past nine? At the Six Suns?"
"Six Suns, half past nine, yes," Theremon said. "It's a date." Beenay broke the contact and sat for a long moment staring at the rolled paper cylinder before him, somberly shaking his head. He felt fractionally calmer now, but only fractionally. Confiding in Theremon would make it easier to bear the burden of all this. He trusted Theremon completely. Newsmen were generally not noted for their trustworthiness, Beenay knew, but Theremon was a friend first, a journalist after that. He had never betrayed Beenay's confidence, not once.
Even so, Beenay didn't have any idea of his next move. Maybe Theremon would be able to come up with something. Maybe.
He left the Observatory by the back stairs, sneaking out by the fire escape like a thief. He didn't dare risk the possibility of running into Athor by going out the main way. It was appalling to him to consider the possibility of seeing Athor now, having to confront him face to face, man to man.
He found the motor scooter ride home a terrifying one. At every moment he was afraid that the laws of gravity would cease to hold true, that he would go soaring off into the heavens. But at last Beenay reached the little apartment that he shared with Raissta 717.
She gasped when she saw him.
"Beenay! You're white as a-"
"Ghost, yes." He reached for her and pulled her close against him. "Hold me," he said. "Hold me."
"What is it? What happened?"
"I'll tell you later," he said. "Just hold me."
Theremon was at the Six Suns Club a little after nine. It was probably a good idea to get a head start on Beenay, a quick drink or two first, just to lubricate his brain a little. The astronomer had sounded awful-as though he was keeping hysteria at bay only by some tremendous effort. Theremon couldn't imagine what terrible thing could have happened to him, there in the seclusion and stillness of the Observatory, to make such a wreck out of him in so short a time. But plainly Beenay was in big trouble, and plainly he was going to need the highest-quality help Theremon could provide.
"Let me have