The great All American public was scared. _Earth--May, 1976-May, 1977_ When they were satisfied that Johnny had told all he knew, they let him go home--which was no place in particular. He didn’t like having a lot of people around, so he skipped the big whirl he could have had in New York or Washington or Buenos Aires. He bummed around as quietly as possible for a while; found that liquor helped, and women, mostly, did not; set himself up as a kind of roving consultant in engineering and design, and found that work could help, too, for short spells. If it happened to catch his interest. Getting jobs was easy; the name of Johnny Wendt was enough, even though his qualifications could be equalled by any number of other bright young cybernetics engineers. But _wanting_ to get jobs was tougher. He had all the money he’d ever need; and if he needed more, after the life-time pension and bonus pay, there were always advertisers clamoring for his endorsements, and manufacturers for the use of his name. He could get money, jobs, liquor, women. But what he wanted, he couldn’t get, and didn’t even know a name for. The therapy had helped. But not enough. He knew for a fact that he hadn’t killed Doug; but between fact and belief there is a world of difference. He knew, too, that he hadn’t--done any of the things he’d been afraid even to think about, before the therapy. Now he could think about them; and did. Now he knew what he’d wanted to do. Now he couldn’t forget. After a while he met Lisa, or rather, met her again. He didn’t really remember her from before, but she remembered him. When he first went up to the Moon, one of the beglamoured selectees from the Space Academy, to train for the Mars flight, she was one of a crowd of worshipful and willing girls--young actresses, models, dance students--the whole gang dated. In the intervening years, she had made a name for herself on world-wide tri-di--which would have disqualified her from Johnny’s cynical viewpoint (“The higher they get, the easier they fall,” he was fond of saying just then), except that he met her quite unsuspiciously during her twice-a-week stints as dance-therapist for a group therapy clinic of Kutler’s. Oddly, she had remained just as worshipful, and just as willing. And Johnny found, after a bit, that he was reassured by some special warmth in her willingness; later he was fascinated by the calm pleasure she took in knowing that a million people were watching her when she danced on tri-di. Later still, when fascination and reassurance progressed far enough, he found at least a partial answer, with her, to some of the questions he was still asking himself about Johnny Wendt. _Rockland, N. Y.--Thursday, June 23, 1977, 2_ A.M. (_E.D.S.T._) She watched him straighten up and come back to the bed. There were two women in her. One woman was glad because it would be all right now: he wouldn’t drink any more tonight. The other woman, watching as he came to her, was just glad....