But in doing so he was turning Bill's only friend in the world •into a stranger. Bill wasn't going to allow that. Lisl was too innocent, too decent a person at heart for him to sit back and watch all that was good within her get sucked down the black hole of a philosophy like Rafe's.

He had to help her fight back, even if she didn't want to fight back.

Bill knew he was late coming to the battle. He hadn't even known it was being waged until today. But he could not sit on the sidelines any longer.

The first order of business was to learn a little more about Rafe Losmara.

TWENTY-ONE

Everett Sanders sat alone in his office and chewed his twentieth white grape. He hadn't been able to find any decent peaches yesterday, so he'd settled for the grapes. He folded the Ziploc bag he'd brought them in and slipped it back into his brown paper lunch bag. He stashed the bag in his briefcase.

There. Lunch was done. Time for cigarette number six. He lit up and reached for his novel of the week: The Scarlatti Inheritance by Robert Ludlum. He was enjoying it immensely; so much so that he had read well past yesterday's quota of pages last night. He pulled the little notebook from his breast pocket. Yes, there it was. Last night's entry. He had actually completed today's quota before he'd finally turned in.

Which left Ev in something of a quandary. Any more reading during his lunch break today would put him further ahead, opening the possibility of having nothing to read on Saturday. Of course he could ahvays start next week's book—usually first opened on Sunday afternoon—on Saturday, but that would move everything out of sequence for the coming week and he might be faced with an even worse problem next weekend.

A domino dilemma. Perhaps a book of short stories might solve the problem… he could sample a few as needed and then—

No. It was novels he liked and novels he would read.

Why not skip reading altogether today? It was Wednesday, after all, and he did have the meeting tonight. If he stayed a little later he could come home and go directly to bed at his usual hour of 11:30, immediately after the late news. All he had to do now was find a way to kill the lunch-hour time and he'd be almost home free.

But he had no backup plan for this lunch hour. That meant free time. Ev didn't like free time. It wasn't good for him. He knew from past experience that if he allowed his thoughts to roam free too long, they would roam the wrong way.

He was tempted to turn on his terminal and work on his paper for Palo Alto, but he had allotted time elsewhere in the day for that. He couldn't do that now.

Ev began to feel the first twinges of anxiety.

He went to the window and looked out to where Lisl used to take her lunch. He hadn't seen her with the groundskeeper lately. Maybe it was too cool these days for lunch al fresco.

As he smoked his cigarette and stared out at the deserted knoll, he began to experience another reason for avoiding unoccupied time: loneliness. A cluttered day left no time to ponder the emptiness of his existence.

And it is empty, isn't it?

He sighed as he exhaled the last of his cigarette. But that was how it had to be, at least for the time being. Perhaps in a few years, if he found the right someone, someone who could understand and accept him, he might be ready to make another commitment. He'd be past forty-five then. Kind of late in life to be thinking of marriage again. But other people did it all the time, so why couldn't he?

Perhaps because his first marriage had been so painful. Poor, long-suffering Diane—what he had put her through. She'd hung on longer than anyone had a right to expect while their marriage had died a lingering death, all because of him. Someday he might have the courage to try again and get it right the second time, but such a thing was impossible now. He still loved Diane.

He lit cigarette number seven and strolled into the hall. He had a sudden craving for human company but did not expect to find it in the department at lunch hour. Most of the faculty retreated to the lounge where they could eat in peace without interruption from students with questions and problems. Still, it was worth a look.

He pulled up short as he passed Lisl's office. The door was open and someone was in there. He backed up a step. Lisl, working away at her terminal. Industry. He liked that, especially in a woman. He hesitated, then knocked on her door frame.

"Working hard?" he said.

Lisl turned with a startled expression, then she smiled. She had a wonderful smile.

"Ev! How are you? What's up?"

"Nothing. Just wandering the halls, looking for someone to talk to. But if I'm disturbing you—"

"Don't be silly. Come in, come in. Let me exit this"—she pressed a couple of keys and her terminal beeped—"and we'll talk."

She rose from her terminal and approached her desk, motioning him to one of the chairs. She'd lost more weight and was very trim now. Absolutely smashing in her snug sweater and knee-length skirt. Not at all what one would expect in a mathematics professor. That gave Ev a twinge of concern. Lisl's level of attractiveness bordered on the unprofessional. A student might find it very difficult to concentrate on her words when she was parading before the class. He wondered if he should mention it to her… purely as a friend. Then again, maybe he should mind his own business.

"So," he said as he sat down, "working on your paper?"

"Yes. It's coming along pretty well. How about yours?"

"Oh, I'm bogged down on some of the calculations, but I think it's all going to work out in the end."

He wondered what her topic was but knew it wouldn't be proper to ask. He was sure she'd have a good paper, but he was also sure his would be better. He was very excited about it.

Silence hung between them.

"So," she said finally, "what have you been up to lately besides your paper? Anything exciting?"

He had to laugh. Exciting? Me? Excitement implied spontaneity, and for Ev spontaneity meant trouble. He had painstakingly arranged his life to eliminate the unexpected, structured his days so that each one followed a predictable pattern, so that every Tuesday was just like every other Tuesday. Excitement? There was no room in his life for excitement. He had carefully seen to that.

"Well, I'm reading a rather exciting novel at the moment—an oldie but'a goodie, you might say. It's—"

"Excuse me," said a voice behind him. "Am I interrupting something?"

Ev turned and saw that Losmara fellow Lisl had been keeping company with. He wondered what she saw in him. He was not at all the sort Ev would have matched with Lisa. Too delicate. Lisa seemed the type who'd be more at home with a beefier male, one with more physical presence. But none of this was any real concern of his. Over the years he'd learned to mind his own business.

"Hi, Rafe," Lisl said. "You remember Dr. Sanders?"

"Of course," Losmara said, stepping forward and extending his hand. "I've been auditing a few of your lectures."

"Have you now?" Ev said, rising and shaking hands. "I don't remember seeing you there."

The young man smiled. "I usually take a seat in a back row. I'm there just to listen, to keep a honed edge on my math. You can't let your math get rusty in my end of psych."

Ev felt his attitude toward Losmara warming. Maybe there was more to him than he'd thought, some real depth behind that dandified, rich-kid appearance.

"I hope they're useful."

"They're telling me what I want to know."

Ev saw a look pass between Lisl and Losmara and realized he was a fifth wheel here.

"Well, I've got some odds and ends to clear up in my office. Nice talking to you, Lisl. And good luck to you, Mr. Losmara."