"It'll be daylight soon," I said. "We'll feel pretty asinine about this little trip after the sun comes up, but don't worry, I won't tell anybody----" "We've got to keep moving," Foster said. "At the next town, I'll telephone for seats on a flight out of Miami." "Hold on," I said. "You're raving. What about your house? We didn't even stick around long enough to make sure the TV was turned off. And what about passports, and money, and luggage? And what makes you think I'm going with you?" "I've kept myself in readiness for this emergency," Foster said. "There are disposition instructions for the house on file with a legal firm in Jacksonville. There is nothing to connect me with my former life, once I've changed my name and disappeared. As for the rest--we can buy luggage in the morning. My passport is in the car; perhaps we'd better go first to Puerto Rico, until we can arrange for one for you." "Look," I said. "I got spooked in the dark, that's all. Why not just admit we made fools of ourselves?" Foster shook his head. "The inherent inertia of the human mind," he said. "How it fights to resist new ideas." "The kind of new ideas you're talking about could get both of us locked up in the chuckle ward," I said. "Legion," Foster said, "I think you'd better write down what I'm going to tell you. It's important--vitally important. I won't waste time with preliminaries. The notebook I showed you--it's in my jacket. You must read the English portion of it. Afterwards, what I'm about to say may make more sense." "I hope you don't feel your last will and testament coming on, Mr. Foster," I said. "Not before you tell me what that was we were both so eager to get away from." "I'll be frank with you," Foster said flatly. "I don't know." * * * * * Foster wheeled into the dark drive of a silent service station, eased to a stop, set the brake and slumped back in the seat. "Do you mind driving for a while, Legion?" he said. "I'm not feeling very well." "Sure I'll drive," I said. I opened the door and got out and went around to his side. Foster sat limply, eyes closed, his face drawn and strained. He looked older than he had last night--years older. The night's experiences hadn't taken anything off my age, either. Foster opened his eyes, looked at me blankly. He seemed to gather himself with an effort. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not myself." He moved over and I got in the driver's seat. "If you're sick," I said, "we'd better find a doctor." "No, it's all right," he said blurrily. "Just keep going...." "We're a hundred and fifty miles from Mayport now," I said.