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.In a bluff voice he said, “Sometimes we don’t realize how lucky we are, and that’s a fact.”“ ‘Lucky’?” Alice spoke in an abstracted voice.“Who? The people of Hant? Or the Cro-Magnons?”“Us, of course.”“Oh.”“You don’t think so?” Bo spoke indulgently.“Not altogether.”“Look at them! Living in caves.Dancing around a campfire.Eating a piece of dead bear.That doesn’t look so good.”“Yes, their lives lacked delicacy.” Alice continued along the conduit, moving briskly, and frowning just a trifle.She glanced into percepts depicting aspects of the proto-civilizations; she halted at a percept presenting in a time-compression sequence the development of Hialkh, the first city known to archaeologists.The annunciator commented, “At this particular instant in the human epic, civilization has begun.Behind: the long gray dawn ages.Ahead: the glories which culminate in Hant! But beware! look yonder across the Pontus! The cruel barbarians of the steppes, those expert wielders of sword and axe who time and time again have ravaged the cities!”Bo’s now familiar voice spoke, “The only ravagers nowadays are the tourists.”Alice made no comment, and continued along the conduit.She looked into the faces of Xerxes, Subotai, Napoleon, Shgulvarsko, Jensen, El Jarm.She saw battles, sieges, slaughters and routs.Cities developed from villages, grew great, collapsed into ruins, disappeared into flames.Bo enunciated his impressions and opinions, to which Alice made perfunctory acknowledgments.He was something of a nuisance, but she was too kind to snub him directly and hurt his feelings.Altogether she found him somewhat repulsive, a curious mixture of innocence and cynicism; of ponderous affability and sudden sinister silences.She wondered if he might not be a trifle deranged; odd for a person of his attributes to be studying the history of man! The percepts and displays, for all their splendor, began to bore her; there was simply too much to be encompassed at a casual inspection, and long ago she had learned what she wanted to know.She said to Bo, “I think I’ll be leaving.I hope you profit by your studies; in fact I know you will if you apply yourself diligently.Goodbye.”“Wait,” said Bo.“I’ve seen enough for today.” He fell into step beside her.“What are you going to do now?”Alice looked at him sidewise.“I’m going to find some lunch.I’m hungry.Why do you ask?”“I’m hungry too.We’re not all that different, you and I.”“Just because we’re both hungry? That’s not logical.Crows, vultures, rats, sharks, dogs: they all get hungry.I don’t identify myself with any of these.”Bo frowned, examining the implications of the remark.They left the Hall of History and came out into the daylight.Bo asked gruffly, “You mean that you think I’m like a bird or a rat or a dog?”“No, of course not!” Alice laughed at the quaint conceit.“I mean that we’re people of different societies.I’m a starlander; you’re an urbanite.Yours is a very old way of life, which is perhaps a bit-well, let’s say, passive, or introverted.”Bo grunted.“If you say so.I never thought about it that way.Anyway just yonder is a branch of the Synthetique.Do you care to eat there? It’s on me.”“No, I think not,” said Alice.“I’ve seen those colored pastes and nutritious shreds of bark and they don’t look very good.I think I’ll go up home for lunch.So once again: goodbye.Have a good lunch.”“Wait!” cried Bo.“I’ve got a better idea! I know another place, an old tavern where spacemen and all kinds of people go.It’s very old and famous: Hongo’s Blue Lamp.It would be a shame if you didn’t see it.” He modulated his voice into that husky cajoling tone which had always dissolved female will power like warm water on sugar.“Come along, I’ll buy you a nice lunch and we’ll get to know each other better.”Alice smiled politely and shook her head.“I think I’ll be getting on.Thank you anyway.”Bo stood back, mouth compressed.He turned glumly away, raising a hand to his face.The gesture closed a circuit in Alice’s memory-bank.Why, this was the man who had victimized Waldo! How very odd! What a strange coincidence that she should meet him at the Academy! Coincidence? The chances seemed remote.She asked, “What is your name?”Bo spoke in a grumbling resentful voice.“Bo, short for Bodred.The last name is Histledine.”“Bodred Histledine.And you work at the spaceyards?”Bo nodded.“What’s your name?”Alice seemed not to hear.“Perhaps I’ll have lunch at this tavern after all—if you care to show me the way.”“It’s not exactly a big expedition, with me running ahead like a guide,” growled Bo.“I’ll take you there as my guest.”“No, I wouldn’t care for that,” said Alice.“But I’ll visit this tavern: yes.I think I’d like to talk with you.”6Waldo pushed the photograph across the desk to Inspector Vole, who examined it with care.“The man isn’t identifiable, as you can see for yourself,” said Vole.“The woman—I don’t recognize her, but I’ll put her through identification procedure and maybe something will show up.” He departed the room.Waldo sat drumming his fingers.From time to tune a faint waft of jeek body-tar odor reached his nostrils, causing him to wince and twist his head.Inspector Vole returned with the photograph and a print-out bearing the likenesses of a dozen women.He pushed the sheet across the desk.“This is what the machine gave me.Do you recognize any of them?”Waldo nodded.“This is the one.” He touched a face on the sheet.“I thought so too,” said Vole.“Do you intend to place criminal charges?”“Maybe.But not just yet.Who is she?”“Her name is Hernanda Degasto Confurias.Her address is 214-19-64, Bagram
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