She shook her head. "There are no more Afrikanders." "Rebellion?" "No. Intermarriage. Racial blending. There was a psychology of guilt behind it. So huge a crime eventually required a proportionate expiation. Afrikaans is still the world language, but there is only one race now. No more masters or slaves." They were both silent for a moment, and then she sighed. "Let us not talk about them any more." "Robot factories and farms," Maitland mused. "What else? What means of transportation? Do you have interstellar flight yet?" "Inter-what?" "Have men visited the stars?" She shook her head, bewildered. "I always thought that would be a tough problem to crack," he agreed. "But tell me about what men are doing in the Solar System. How is life on Mars and Venus, and how long does it take to get to those places?" He waited, expectantly silent, but she only looked puzzled. "I don't understand. Mars? What are Mars?" After several seconds, Maitland swallowed. Something seemed to be the matter with his throat, making it difficult for him to speak. "Surely you have space travel?" She frowned and shook her head. "What does that mean--space travel?" He was gripping the edge of the bed now, glaring at her. "A civilization that could discover time travel and build robot factories wouldn't find it hard to send a ship to Mars!" "A _ship_? Oh, you mean something like a _vliegvlotter_. Why, no, I don't suppose it would be hard. But why would anyone want to do a thing like that?" He was on his feet towering over her, fists clenched. She raised her arms as if to shield her face if he should hit her. "Let's get this perfectly clear," he said, more harshly than he realized. "So far as you know, no one has ever visited the planets, and no one wants to. Is that right?" She nodded apprehensively. "I have never heard of it being done." He sank down on the bed and put his face in his hands. After a while he looked up and said bitterly, "You're looking at a man who would give his life to get to Mars. I thought I would in my time. I was positive I would when I knew I was in your time. And now I know I never will." * * * * * The cot creaked beside him and he felt a soft arm about his shoulders and fingers delicately stroking his brow. Presently he opened his eyes and looked at her. "I just don't understand," he said. "It seemed obvious to me that whenever men were able to reach the planets, they'd do it." Her pitying eyes were on his face. He hitched himself around so that he was facing her. "I've got to understand. I've got to know _why_. What happened? Why don't men want the planets any more?" "Honestly," she said, "I did not know they ever had." She hesitated. "Maybe you are asking the wrong question." He furrowed his brow, bewildered now by her. "I mean," she explained, "maybe you should ask why people in the 20th Century _did_ want to go to worlds men are not suited to inhabit."