Not that I am a bad man, in any reasonable sense of the term. I respect myself; no occasion to grovel and beat my chest. I'm not ashamed to stand comparison with any other fair sample of the species. But there you are: I _am_ human, and under the aspect of eternity so far, plus this afternoon's newspaper, that is a rather serious thing. Without real knowledge, I think of this total recall as something like a passage down a corridor of a myriad images, now dark, now brilliant, now pleasant, now horrible--guided by no certainty except an awareness of the open blind door at the end of it. It could have its pleasing moments and its consolations. I don't see how it could ever approximate the delight and satisfaction of living a few more years in this world with the angel lighting on my shoulder when she wishes, and talking to me. I had to ask her how great a value such a record would be to them. Obvious enough--they can be of little use to us, by their standards, until they understand us, and they came here to be of use to us as well as to themselves. And understanding us, to them, means knowing us inside out with a completeness such as our most dedicated and laborious scholars could never imagine. I remember, about those twelve million years: they will not touch us until they are certain no harm will come of it. On our tortured planet, however, there is a time factor. They know that well enough, of course.... Recall cannot begin unless the subject is willing or unresisting; to them, that has to mean willing, for any being with intellect enough to make a considered choice. Now, I wonder how many they could find who would be honestly willing to make that uneasy journey into death, for no reward except an assurance that they were serving their own kind and the angels. More to the point, I wonder if I would be able to achieve such willingness myself, even with her help. When this had been explained to me, she urged me again to make no hasty decision. And she pointed out to me what my thoughts were already groping at--why not both alternatives, within a reasonable limit of time? Why couldn't I have ten or fifteen years or more with her, and then undertake the total recall, perhaps not until my physical powers had started toward senility? I thought that over. This morning I had almost decided to choose that most welcome and comfortable solution. Then my daily paper was delivered. Not that I needed any such reminder. * * * * *