The smell was delicious, and once again there was that haunting sense of familiarity. Like a small boy, he could not resist dipping in a finger, then savoring the tip with his tongue.

Some delayed-action circuit was operating: deep in the recesses of memory, the most primitive-and potent-of all senses was opening doors that had been locked for years.

His body remembered before his mind. As he relaxed contentedly in a warm glow of sheer animal lust, everything came back to him.

Honey tasted like Calindy..

Sooner or later, of course, he would have contacted her. But he wanted time to adjust, and to feel as much at home on Earth as he could ever be. So he had told himself; but that was not the only reason.

The logical part of his mind had no wish for him to be sucked back into the whirlpool that had engulfed him as a boy. But in matters of the heart, logic was always defeated. In the long run, it could do no more than say:

“I told you so….” And by then it was too late.

He had known Calindy’s body, but he had been too young to know her love.

Now he was a man-and there was nothing that Karl could do to stop him.

The first task was to locate Calindy. He felt some disappointment that she had not already contacted him, for the news of his arrival had been well publicized. Was she indifferent-even embarrassed? He would take that chance.

Duncan walked to the Comsole, and the screen became alive as his fingers brushed the ON pad. Now it was a miracle beyond the dreams of any poet, a charmed magic casement, opening on all seas, all lands.

Through this window could flow everything that Man had ever learned about his universe, and every work of art he had saved from the dominion of Time. All the libraries and museums that had ever existed could be funneled through this screen and the millions like it scattered over the face of Earth. Even the least sensitive of men could be overwhelmed by the thought that one could operate a Comsole for a thousand lifetimes-and barely sample the knowledge stored within the memory banks that lay triplicated in their widely separated caverns, more securely guarded than any gold. There was an appropriate irony in the fact that two of these buried complexes had once been control centers for nuclear missiles.

But now Duncan was not concerned with the heritage of mankind; he had a more modest objective in view. His fingers tapped out the word INFo, and the screen instantly displayed:

PLEASE SPECIFY CATEGORY

01. General 02. Science 03. History 04. Arts 05. Recreatibn 06. Geography 07. Earth Directory 08. Moon Directory 09. Planet Directory and so on for more than thirty subject headings.

As his fingers tapped out 07, Duncan could not help recalling his very first confrontation with the Terran Comsole system. The categories were almost the same as on Titan, but ACTIVATE was on the left-hand side of the keyboard, and the unfamiliar position had made him forget to press it. So nothing had happened for a good five seconds; then a really beautiful girl had appeared on the screen and said sweetly, in a voice to which Duncan could have listened forever: “You seem to be having some difficulty. Have you remembered to press ACTIVATET’

He had stared at her until she faded out, leaving a dazzling smile

that, like the Cheshire Cat, lingered in 146 his memory. Though he had promptly repeated the same mistake five times in a row, she never came back. It was a different girl each time. Oh well, he told himself, they had probably all been dead for years…. When EARTH DIRECTORY came up, he was requested to give Family Name, Given

Names, Personal Number, and Last Known Address-Region, Country, Province,

Postal Code. But that was the problem-he had not heard from Calindy for five years, and had never known her personal number. It had even been hard to recall her family name; if it had been Smith or Wong or Lee the task would have been hopeless.

He typed Out ELLERMAN, CATHERINE LINDEN, and a string of DON’T KNOWS. The

Comsole shot back: WHAT INFORMATION DO YOU WANT? Duncan answered:

ADDRESS AND VIDDY NUMBER: ACTIVATE

Suppose Calindy had changed her name? Unlikely; she was not the sort of woman who would let herself be dominated by any man, even if she established a long-term relationship with one. Duncan could imagine the man changing his name, rather than the other way around…. He had barely completed this thought when, to his surprise, the screen announced:

ELLERMAN, CATHERINE LINDEN

North Atlan

New York

New York

Personal: 373:496:000:000

Viddy: 99:373:496:000:000

The speed with which the system had located Calindy was so amazing that it was several seconds before two even more surprising facts registered in

Duncan’s mind.

The first was that Calindy had managed to secure a–quite literally—one-in-a-million personal identification. The second was that she had been able to get it incorporated in her viddy number. Duncan would not have believed it possible; Karl had once tried to do

the same thing, and even he had failed. Calindy’s powers of persuasion had always been remarkable, but be realized that he had underestimated them.

So here she was, not only on this planet, but on this continenta mere five hundred kilometers away. He had only to tap out that number, and he could look once more into the eyes that had so often smiled at him from the bubble stereo.

He knew that he was going to do it; of that there was never any question.

Yet still he hesitated, partly savoring the moment of anticipation, partly wondering just what he was going to say. He had still not decided this when, almost impulsively, he tapped out the fourteen digits that opened up the road to the past.

Duncan would never have recognized her had they met in the street; he had forgotten what years of Earth gravity could do. For long seconds he stared at the image, unable to speak. Finally she broke the silence, with a slightly impatient: “Yes? What is it?”

Before he could answer, Duncan found it necessary to start breathing again.

“Calindy,” he said, “don’t you remember me?”

The expression in those lustrous eyes changed imperceptibly. Then there was the trace of a smile, though a wary one. Be reasonable, Duncan told himself; she can’t possibly recognize you, after fifteen years. How many thousands of people has she met in that time, on this busy, crowded world? (And how many lovers, since Karl?)

But she surprised him, as usual.

“Of course, Duncan-how lovely to see you. I knew you were on Earth, and had been wondering when you’d call.”

He felt a little embarrassed, as perhaps he was intended to do.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was incredibly busy. The Centennial celebrations, you know.”

As he stared into the screen, the remembered features slowly emerged from the stranger looking back at him. The impact of the years was not as great as he had supposed; much of the unfamiliarity was purely artificial. She had changed the color of her hair so that it was no longer black, but brown, shot with flecks of gold. The oval of the

face was the same, the ivory skin still flawless. When he forgot that imagge in the bubble stereo, he could see that she was still Calindy -more mature, and even more desirable.

He could also see that she was sitting in a crowded office, with shadowy figures coming and going all around her, and occasionally handing her sheafs of documents. Somehow, he had never imagined Calindy as a busy executive, but he was quite sure that if she had set her heart on the role, she would be a great success. It was obvious, however, that this was no time for tender endearments. The best that he could hope for was to arrange a meeting as soon as possible.

He had come all the way from Saturn; it should not be difficult to span the extra distance between Washington and New York. But, it seemed, there were problems. He even got the impression that there was some hesitation, even reluctance, on Calindy’s part. She consulted a very complicated diary, threw several dates at him, and appeared slightly relieved when Duncan found that they clashed with his own appointments.