People did not collect at random and throw a party on the spur of the moment nor could one decide to go out and buy a magazine and read it instead of cleaning out the basement. Though it was admitted as such, it was an emergency dictatorship, with the Alamogordo Blow-up as main dictator. Regulation was the order of the years. Earth One was, to Virginia, completely unregulated. Women walked along the streets idly, looking in windows and smiling at men. The sign "Bar" intrigued Virginia. She was no stranger to the potable qualities of alcohol, but the concept of an establishment directed at the sole idea of selling drinks had not occurred to her. This--recall--was Virginia's first experience in living in a world not harassed by fear. She paused at a window showing an assortment of dresses on well-made forms. In her world, Virginia was a good-looking woman and dressed as well as the next. In contrast to a world where much time and energy was directed at luxury instead of the sheer, vicious necessity driven of hope and despair--in a world where the accolade of young womanhood is to be permitted her first trip to mother's beauty salon and thereafter make obeisance regularly--Virginia, a beauty in her own world, knew that here she was as conspicuous as a tall telephone pole in a snowbound prairie. She knew because the window before which she stood reflected her own hand-made dress against the luxurious mannequin inside the window. Moray had been correct in his assumption that a beautiful woman could get away with more than a plain one. His only mistake was in not judging alien demands for grooming. And yet it was not a true mistake. It was rooted in sheer ignorance. Virginia wondered. Money? Coinage does not change very often. But the few coins she had in her bag would not cover the two figures to the left of the decimal point--iffing and providing that they were still good. There was, on her right hand, her mother's diamond. On her left wrist was a wristwatch of quite ancient vintage--Virginia automatically called it "Pre-Blast"--which might bring a few dollars. Virginia turned from the window and went across the street to a pawnshop. She emerged with a handful of greenbacks, re-crossed the street and entered the ladies' shop. With satisfaction Virginia noted a beautician's place next door and, though rather questioning of the nefarious arts that might go on behind the curtains, Virginia was determined to compete with her contemporary girl-friends on an even basis--perhaps with a fair head start! CHAPTER VI _Sprung by the Foe_ John Cauldron made contact with Peter Moray shortly after Virginia had gone. Moray, busy with the details at hand, had not given much time to thinking out the course of the future. Besides, it was Moray's business to act upon orders from above. His was not the planner's lot. "What's cooking?" he asked Cauldron.