But they didn't. A light gong sounded, and the waiter and manager hurried over to a slot of a door and brought out a couple of trays loaded with covered dishes. "Your dinner, Mr. Weldon," the manager said, putting the plates in front of me and removing the lids. I stared down at the food. "This," I told them angrily, "is a hell of a trick to play on a starving man!" * * * * * They all looked unhappy. "Mashed dehydrated potatoes, canned meat and canned vegetables," Carr replied. "Not very appetizing. I know, but I'm afraid it's all we can allow you to eat." I took the cover off the dessert dish. "Dried fruits!" I said in disgust. "Rather excessively dried, I'm sorry to say," the manager agreed mournfully. I sipped the blue stuff in a glass and almost spat it out. "Powdered milk! Are these things what you people have to live on?" "No, our diet is quite varied," Carr said in embarrassment. "But we unfortunately can't give you any of the foods we normally eat ourselves." "And why in blazes not?" "Please eat, Mr. Weldon," Carr begged with frantic earnestness. "There's so much to explain--this is part of it, of course--and it would be best if you heard it on a full stomach." I was famished enough to get the stuff down, which wasn't easy; uninviting as it looked, it tasted still worse. When I was through, Carr pushed several buttons on the glowing menu. Dishes came up from an opening in the center of the table and he showed me the luscious foods they contained. "Given your choice," he said, "you'd have preferred them to what you have eaten. Isn't that so, Mr. Weldon?" "You bet I would!" I answered, sore because I hadn't been given that choice. "And you would have died like the pathetic old people you were investigating," said a voice behind me. I turned around, startled. Several men and women had come in while I'd been eating, their footsteps as silent as cats on a rug. I looked blankly from them to Carr and back again. "These are the clothes we ordinarily wear," Carr said. "An 18th Century motif, as you can see--updated knee breeches and shirt waists, a modified stock for the men, the daring low bodices of that era, the full skirts treated in a modern way by using sheer materials for the women, bright colors and sheens, buckled shoes of spun synthetics. Very gay, very ornamental, very comfortable, and thoroughly suitable to our time." "But everybody I saw was dressed like me!" I protested.