“Sorry,” Michael said. “I hardly touched the trigger.”

“Put it down before one of us gets hurt,” Donald yelled.

“At least we know it works,” Michael said.

Donald shook his head with disgust while he reached up with his hand to check his ear. Thankfully there was no blood. The bolt had come that close. Mumbling expletives about the clowns he’d gotten stranded with, he continued down the gallery. Soon he was looking at a collection of World War II rifles and handguns. To his chagrin, they were in sorry shape, having suffered the ill effects of salt water. He became progressively discouraged until he came across a German Luger near the room’s end. At first sight it appeared to be in excellent condition.

Unaware he was holding his breath, Donald reached for the pistol and hefted it. To his delight, the gun appeared pristine even under close scrutiny. With great anticipation he released the magazine. A smile spread across his face. The clip was full!

“Did you find something good?” Michael asked. He’d come up behind Donald.

Donald pushed the magazine home in the pistol’s hand grip. It made a definitive, reassuringly solid mechanical sound. He held the gun aloft. “This is what I’ve been looking for.”

“Cool!” Michael said.

Lovingly Donald put the Luger back where he’d found it.

“What are you doing?” Michael questioned. “Aren’t you going to take it?”

“Not now,” Donald said. “Not until I know what I’m going to do with it.”

Richard stopped dead in his tracks. He could not believe what he was seeing. It was a room chock full of treasure, mostly from ancient times. There were innumerable cups, bowls, and even whole statues made of solid gold, all dramatically lit with concentrated beams of light. In one corner was a series of chests filled with doubloons. The display was dazzling.

What made the sight even more astounding for Richard was that the entire collection of inestimable value was all within easy grasp since the objects were out in the open and not behind protective glass barriers like he was accustomed to in all the museums he’d ever visited. And this was on top of the fact that the museum’s front door had no guards.

“This is unbelievable,” Richard managed. “God, this is fantastic. What I would do for a wheelbarrow of this stuff!”

“You like these objects?” Sufa questioned.

“Like them? I love them,” Richard stammered. “I’ve never seen anything like this. I doubt there’s this much gold in Fort Knox.”

“We have storerooms filled with these things,” Sufa said. “Ships have been sinking with gold for years. I can arrange to have a quantity of similar objects sent to your room for your own enjoyment if you’d like.”

“You mean stuff like we’re seeing here?”

“Certainly,” Sufa said. “Do you prefer the large statues or the smaller objects?”

“I’m not picky,” Richard said. “But what about jewels? Does the museum have jewels, too?”

“Certainly,” Sufa said. “But most of it comes from your ancient times. Would you care to view it?”

“Why not?” Richard answered.

On the way to the gallery of ancient jewelry, Richard caught sight of an artifact in a display of twentieth-century curios that brought a smile to his face. On a chest-high pedestal a Frisbee was carefully illuminated with a pencil of light, as if it, too, were as priceless as gold.

“Well, I’ll be!” Richard mumbled to himself as he stopped in front of the chartreuse disk. He noticed a few canine indentations along the Frisbee’s edge. “What on earth is this here for?” he called ahead to Sufa.

Sufa came back to where Richard was standing to see what he was referring to. “We don’t know exactly what that is,” she admitted. “But some have suggested it might be a model of one of our antigravity vehicles like our air taxis or our interplanetary cruisers. We were afraid for a time that there had been a direct sighting.”

Richard threw his head back and laughed. “You got to be kidding,” he said.

“No, I’m not joking,” Sufa said. “Its shape is very suggestive, and it can be spun to capture a cushion of air that mimics an antigravity ship.”

“It’s not a model of anything,” Richard said. “It’s nothing but a Frisbee.”

“What is it used for?” Sufa asked.

“It’s to play with,” Richard said. “You spin it like you said and then someone else catches it. Let me show you.” Richard picked up the Frisbee and gently flipped it up into the air on an angle. The toy reached an apogee then returned. He caught it in his palm between his thumb and fingers. “That’s all there is to it,” he said. “It’s easy, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Sufa said.

“Let me throw it to you and you catch it just like I did,” Richard said. He trotted down the gallery about fifty feet. He turned and tossed the Frisbee toward Sufa. She went through the motions as if she were going to catch it, but she was too clumsy. Although it grazed her hand, she failed to grab it; it clattered to the floor. After rolling his eyes at her ineptness, Richard trotted back and showed her again how to do it. But his efforts were in vain. On the next toss she was even more awkward than on the first.

“You people aren’t into physical activity, are you?” Richard said scornfully. “I’ve never met anyone who couldn’t catch a Frisbee.”

“What’s the purpose?”

“There’s no purpose,” Richard snapped. “It’s just fun. It’s a sport. Tossing this thing back and forth gives you a chance to run around.”

“It seems pointless to me,” Sufa said.

“Don’t you people get any exercise down here in Interterra?”

“Certainly,” Sufa said. “We enjoy swimming particularly but also walking and playing with our homids. Of course there’s always sex, as I’m sure Meeta, Palenque, and Karena have shown you.”

“I’m talking about a sport!” Richard complained. “Sex is not a sport.”

“It is for us,” Sufa said. “And it’s certainly a lot of exercise.”

“What about a sport in which you try to win?” Richard asked.

“Win?” Sufa questioned.

“You know, competition!” Richard said with annoyance. “Don’t you have any competitive games?”

“Heavens, no!” Sufa said. “We stopped that kind of nonsense eons ago when we eliminated wars and violence.”

“Oh, for chrissake,” Richard blurted. “No sports! That means no ice hockey, no football, not even golf! Jeez! And to think Suzanne thinks this place is heaven!”

“Please calm down,” Sufa urged. “Why are you so agitated?”

“Do I seem agitated?” Richard questioned innocently.

“Indeed you do,” Sufa said.

“I guess I need some exercise,” Richard offered. With the Frisbee under his arm, he nervously cracked his knuckles. He knew he was strung out, and he knew why: in his mind’s eye he kept picturing a worker clone stumbling onto Mura’s corpse scrunched up inside his refrigerator.

“Why don’t you take the Frisbee?” Sufa suggested. “Perhaps Michael or one of the others will participate with you.”

“Why not,” Richard said, but without much enthusiasm.

“All right, everybody!” Arak called out. The group had reunited out on the terrace in front of the museum after spending more than an hour inside. They were all discussing what they had seen during the visit, except for Richard, who remained on the periphery, repeatedly tossing the Frisbee into the air and catching it. At the base of the steps three air taxis were waiting.

“Let’s talk about the arrangements for the rest of the morning,” Arak said. “Sufa will accompany Perry to the air taxi construction and repair facility. Perry, I believe that is what you had wanted to see.”

“Very much so,” Perry agreed.

“Ismael and Mary will accompany Donald and Michael to Central Information,” Arak continued.

Donald nodded.

“What about you, Richard?” Arak asked. “Which of those two destinations appeals to you?”