"Sure. She's going to Venus while I go in the opposite direction. Haven't decided yet where I'll spend that happy time. On one of the planets of the nearer stars, I suppose." "That's perfect," the bald man said approvingly. "My wife made me stay on earth while she went to the moon. That's too close for comfort. After all, you don't have but one real honeymoon, and in my opinion every man and woman should strive to make it as nearly perfect as possible. I think the government ought to subsidize that sort of thing. Then the happy couple could put more distance between them. Think what bliss could be achieved if the man could afford to go the maximum distance in one direction and send his wife twice that far in the other direction. I mean to say, happiness is next to the ultimate, and if they could be separated so far that no trace of one ever got back to the other--well, just think of it! We would never hear of divorce again." * * * * * Fillmore's thin angular features darkened. "It is sad to think of the divorces. There's been a dozen in the past half a century. But isn't it because the couples were immature? Some of them married at under eighty years of age, and they insisted on living on the same side of the earth with each other." "You're pretty young yourself," the bald man put in. "I'm ninety-six," Fillmore said defensively. "That's plenty old for a man. All of my people matured early." "And probably died early." "Yes." Fillmore nodded. "A few of them lived to be nearly five hundred, but they were mostly females. The males usually check out between two and three hundred. Their fourteen power intelligence burns them up." "Had your mind erased recently?" "Yesterday. Did it so I could accept Cynthia's proposal without any reservation." "Cynthia?" "That's what I call her. Her real name is Xylosh. She found the name Cynthia in one of those books of ignorance unearthed from the ruins of that ancient farm called New York. She asked me to call her by that name. You know how girls are!" "Sure. They are all very romantic. She may even expect you to be present at the wedding." Fillmore shook his head and grinned. "She knows better than to spoil things. And I love her too much to let anything like that happen. The ceremony will take place near the earth at the hour when the north pole and the south pole swap places. I'll be somewhere beyond the sun at that time." "Figuring on any children?" "Of course. She wants three. We'll have them just before the ceremony." "That's fine. Gets the dirty work out of the way before marriage and then there's nothing to spoil it. But how are you figuring--" "That's what I came to see you about. I want to borrow your secretary." "For what?"