I sent messages to Iris but received none, nor, for that matter, did I have any assurance that she had got mine. Paul’s adventures I followed on television and from the reports of my editors who visited me regularly, despite Stokharin’s orders. On the third day, I was allowed to go to my office: Paul having decided that it would be thought odd if I were to die so soon after Cave and, too, he was no doubt relieved to discover that I had not revealed to my friends what actually had happened. Having established the fact of my weak heart, my death could be engineered most plausibly at any time. I did not see him face to face until the fourth day, when John Cave’s ashes were to be distributed over the United States. Stokharin, Paul and I sat in the back seat of a limousine at the head of a motorcade which, beginning at the tower, terminated at the airport where the jet-plane which would sprinkle the ashes over New York, Seattle, Chicago and Los Angeles was waiting, along with a vast crowd and the President of the United States, an official Christian but known to incline, as Presidents do, toward the majority.... Cavites were the majority and had been for almost two years. I was startled to find Paul and Stokharin in the same automobile. It had been my understanding that we were to travel separately in the motorcade. They were most cordial. “Sorry to hear you’ve been sick, Gene,” Paul grinned ingenuously. “⁗Mustn’t strain the old ticker.” “I’m sure the good doctor will be able to cure me,” I said cheerfully. They both laughed loudly; then the car pulled away from the tower and drove down Park Avenue at the head of a long procession. Crowds lined the street as we drove slowly by. They were curiously still, as though they hardly knew how to react: this was a funeral yet Cavesway was glorious. Some cheered; most simply stared and pointed at our car, recognizing Paul. I suddenly realized why they were so interested in this particular car: on the floor, at Paul’s feet, was what looked like a large flower pot covered with gold foil. “Are those the ashes?” Paul nodded. “Did an extra quick job, too, I’m glad to say. We didn’t want any slip up.” “Where’s Iris?” “I was going to ask _you_ that.” Paul looked at me sharply. “She disappeared yesterday and it’s very embarrassing for all of us, very inconsiderate too: she knew I especially wanted her at the ceremony. She knows that everyone will expect to see her.” “I think she took the idea of Cavesway most illogically,” said Stokharin, his usual sang-froid had returned, his breakdown forgotten. “She should be grateful to us for making all this possible, despite Cave’s weakness.” I ignored Stokharin. I looked at Paul who was beaming at the crowd, acknowledging their waves with nods of his head. “What will you do now?” “You heard the ceremony?” “Yes.”