He looked Andreson over critically. "For a while I was afraid they'd turn out to be Indian-givers on the levitator deal," he added, "but I must say you threw yourself into the job of protecting our interests. Look at you! Both feet bandaged, chest bound, right shoulder strapped up--if ever a man needed a levitator, you do!" "Ah, dry up," Andreson growled. "How near through are you?" "Almost. I'm not trying to hit the gallery, though it might be easier that way." Suddenly he became serious. "I'll tell you what, Ken. It's a new life we're going back to--a life where you and I can look back into the past whenever we want, and visit it, too, if we keep quiet about it. And it's a new world we're going back to, a world which is going to be given the levitator. That means free flight--not just flight in machines, but real flight, where one man can fly whenever, wherever he wants, without having to board a plane or pay a fare. And space-travel, and no heavy lifting for the housewife, and--" "Get to the point." Kimball looked a bit crestfallen. "I thought you'd understand how I felt. Well, I couldn't see going back to the old world at the same spot we left it. I had a new apartment rented when I left, that I'd never been in--hasn't even got any furniture in it. I want to put the Time-window through into there. A fresh start." Andreson nodded. "A good idea, Johnny. But--make it quick." Along the sunlit bridge the delegation of Varans walked ceremoniously. In the vanguard was a lovely shape, like an exquisite butterfly. Kimball looked out the door again and saw her. With a slight smile he left the room; Andreson didn't notice. "Farewell, Ken." "Farewell, Jina, I'm sorry to go." There was a brief, stiff silence, and then she was in his arms, sobbing bitterly. "Ken--why, why?" He swallowed. "Do you remember, up there on the solarium ledge before the rock dome was destroyed--remember I said I had a question I had to answer?" "Yes ... what--was it?" "Just this: _Can Earth and Air mix?_ There's a legend in my time that few people understand, but I think I understand it. It's the story of Lilith, queen of Air and Darkness. She fought with Satan and God alike for the Earth, but she lost, because she was not part of their universe. It's the same with me. What part could I play in a time not my own, among people who live in the air?" The girl did not move or answer. Steadily he went on: "Besides--there's a gap between us greater than parsecs or centuries. Look." He took her hand in his, held it up. The delicate, four-fingered limb made his own five stubby fingers look lumpy and misshapen. "We have no future together, Jina. We seem alike, but we're not. The apes are my cousins; the bats are yours. You should stay with your own race, and have the children I could never give you. We have no real happiness to give each other."