Well, the jet buggy finally set down on an old hospital grounds way back up in the sticks and the cops took us to the main building and into a little office. Walking, mind you. It was shady in the office--not enough lights--and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust after the bright lights in the hall. When they did adjust and I saw the old codger behind the desk I did a real double take. It was Mensor Williams. Yeah. The _Big All_. Anything anybody else can do he can do better. Somebody worked a switch somewhere and the lights brightened. “Good evening, Miss Carlysle,” he said and his little goatee bobbled. Before I could make a crack about ethics against reading minds, he said, “I’m not intruding into your mental processes. I’ve merely scanned forward to a point where I learn your name.” A prescient, too! “There really wasn’t any need to bring her,” he told the cops. “But it was inevitable that you would.” Then he did the funniest thing. He turned to Claude and nodded his head toward me. “How do you like her, Claude?” he asked. Just like I was something offered for sale or something! Claude said, “Is she the one, Dad?” Dad! That one smacked me. The _Big All_ has a kid and the kid’s a _Nothing_! “She’s the one,” said Williams. Claude kind of squared his shoulders and said, “Well, I’m going to throw a stick into the works. I won’t do it!” “Yes, you will,” said Williams. This was all way over my head and I’d had about enough anyway. I said, “Now wait a minute, gentlemen, or I’ll set the place on fire! I mean literally!” “She can do it, too,” said Claude, grinning at his father. “But she won’t,” said Williams. “Oh, won’t I?” I said. “Well, you just try and stop me!” “No need to do that,” said Williams. “I’ve seen what’s going to happen.” Just like that! These prescients give me the creeps. Sometimes I wonder if they don’t give themselves the creeps. Living for them must be like repeating a part you already know. Not for me. I said, “What would happen if I did something different from what you’d seen?” Williams leaned forward with an interested look in his eyes. “It’s never happened,” he said. “If it did happen once, that’d be a real precedent.” I can’t be sure, but looking at him there, I got the idea he’d really be interested to see something happen different from his forecast. I thought of starting a little fire, maybe in the papers on his desk. But somehow the idea didn’t appeal to me. It wasn’t that any presence was in my mind telling me not to. I don’t know exactly what it was. I just didn’t _want_ to do it. I said, “What’s the meaning of all this double talk?” The old man leaned back and I swear he seemed kind of disappointed. He said, “It’s just that you and Claude are going to be married.” I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. Finally, I managed to stammer, “You mean you’ve looked into the future and seen us _married_? How many kids we’re going to have and everything like that?”