She broke off as the car shot down a ramp off the freeway and pulled up in front of an apartment house. Just beyond was a big shopping center, ablaze with lights and swarming with shoppers. Jeff did not recognize it, in spite of his familiarity with the city. Snader bounded out, pulled open the rear door and jerked his head in a commanding gesture. But Jeff did not get out. He told Snader, "Let's have some answers before we go any further." Snader gave him a hard grin. "You hear everything upstairs." The building appeared harmless enough. Jeff looked thoughtfully at Ann. She said, "It's just an apartment house. We've come this far. Might as well go in and see what's there." Snader led them in, up to the sixth floor in an elevator and along a corridor with heavy carpets and soft gold lights. He knocked on a door. * * * * * A tall, silver-haired, important-looking man opened it and greeted them heartily. "Solid man, Greet!" he exclaimed. "You're a real scratcher! And is this our sharp?" He gave Jeff a friendly but appraising look. "Just what you order," Snader said proudly. "His name--Jeff Elliott. Fine sharp. Best in his circuit. He brings his lifemate, too. Ann Elliott." The old man rubbed his smooth hands together. "Prime! I wish joy," he said to Ann and Jeff. "I'm Septo Kersey. Come in. Bullen's waiting." He led them into a spacious drawing room with great windows looking out on the lights of the city. There was a leather chair in a corner, and in it sat a heavy man with a grim mouth. He made no move, but grunted a perfunctory "Wish joy" when Kersey introduced them. His cold eyes studied Jeff while Kersey seated them in big chairs. Snader did not sit down, however. "No need for me now," he said, and moved toward the door with a mocking wave at Ann. Bullen nodded. "You get the rest of your pay when Elliott proves out." "Here, wait a minute!" Jeff called. But Snader was gone. "Sit still," Bullen growled to Jeff. "You understand radioptics?" The blood went to Jeff's head. "My business is television, if that's what you mean. What's this about?" "Tell him, Kersey," the big man said, and stared out the window. Kersey began, "You understand, I think, that you have come back in time. About six years back." "That's a matter of opinion, but go on." "I am general manager of Continental Radioptic Combine, owned by Mr. Dumont Bullen." He nodded toward the big man. "Chromatics have not yet been developed here in connection with radioptics. They are well understood in your time, are they not?" "What's chromatics? Color television?" "Exactly. You are an expert in--ah--colored television, I think." Jeff nodded. "So what?" The old man beamed at him. "You are here to work for our company. You will enable us to be first with chromatics in this time wave." Jeff stood up. "Don't tell me who I'll work for." * * * * *