Bob smiled. "But we'll be gone sir, before this happens." Fator's smile was enigmatic. "Perhaps--not. For some of us. I trust you are reconciled, Winslow. You cannot go back. Otherwise, you are as free as any resident of Taval. You must remain inside the dome, unless it is directed otherwise. Our sun is two degrees colder today, and ice covers the northern hemisphere outside. You could not escape, but I hardly have to warn you. There are plenty of matters to interest you in our midst. You are that type. As for your companion--" "Kenley's a sensible chap," Bob cut in. "True, he lives for sports. But he is an excellent auditor--I mean," he floundered, "good at calculation and all that." "We have machines for that, in our cities," Fator replied. And the way he said it, made Bob feel a tiny cold shudder. Fator closed the interview with the word that he--Bob Winslow, would be answerable to the Senior of Taval's ruling Three. He further said that Vasper would continue as his instructor for the present. Then, with a nod, he turned back to his cylinder. It was whirring as Bob and Vasper stepped into the screen. They emerged within the sports arena again, and Bob noted Jim, watching the games. Then he thought of Fator's cylinder. "That?" Vasper replied in answer to a question. "He was dictating. We use a system--phonetic. The fingers of both hands control Taval rays and thereby, the phonetic words. Fator is writing a story of Taval, or rather, bringing the history up to date, with a plan for his successor to carry on. That is," Vasper added, "if he doesn't carry on himself." "What do you mean?" Bob demanded. "You haven't discovered immortality!" Vasper shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. But--well, there are whispers. It would be death to mention it openly, what I have heard. Do not ask me. But in time, listen to the whispers." Jim Kenley trotted across the great field, looking more cheerful. "Say, I told 'em about baseball and they're willing to take a crack at it. And that tennis business the gals have is red hot. Some swell looking kids around here. Hey Vasper--they ever marry in Taval?" "If The Three decrees, yes. Otherwise, no." Jim's face dropped. "Heck, just as I had a redhead squinting at me in that way. Oh well, when I wake up she'll be gone, and I'll probably find I'm fired for this spree. Where to now, friend Vasper." For days they examined Taval, learned that it took in far more territory than they had imagined. They visited the vat farms, where giant plants grew, blossomed and produced heat in the matter of days, fed by chemicals directly to the roots.