“Did you get everything?” Robert asked anxiously.
“I think so. Stinky was in, but I managed to borrow his books. The gun was harder, but I telephoned a friend of mine and had him call back and ask for Stinky. While he was out of the room, I lifted it. Now I’m a criminal-government property, too.”
“You’re a pal, Howard. After you hear the explanation, youll agree that it was worth doing. Won’t he, Helen?”
“Absolutely!”
“Well, I hope you’re right,” he answered dubiously. “I brought along something else, just in case. Here it is.” He handed Robert a book.
“Aerodynamics and Principles of Aircraft Construction,” Robert read aloud. “My God, yes! Thanks, Howard.”
In a few minutes, Monroe had his belongings assembled and fastened to his person. He had announced that he was ready when the Professor checked him:
“One moment, Robert. How do you know that these books will go with you?”
“Why not? That’s why I’m fastening them to me.”
“Did your earthly clothing go through the first time?”
“Noo — ” His brow furrowed. “Good grief. Doc, what can I do? I couldn’t possibly memorize what I need to know.”
“I don’t know. Son. Let’s think about it a bit.” He broke off and stared at the ceiling. Helen touched his hand.
“Perhaps I can help. Professor.”
“In what way, Helen?”
“Apparently I don’t metamorphize when I change time tracks, I had the same clothes with me everywhere I went. Why couldn’t I ferry this stuff over for Bob?”
“Hm, perhaps you could.”
“No, I couldn’t let you do that,” interposed Monroe. “You might get killed or badly hurt.”
“I’ll chance it.’
“I’ve got an idea,” put in Jenkins. “Couldn’t Doctor Frost set his instructions so that Helen would go over and come right back? How about it. Doc?”
“Mmm, yes, perhaps.” But Helen held up a hand.
“No good. The boodle might come bouncing back with me. I’ll go over without any return instructions. I like the sound of this world of Bob’s anyway. I may stay there. Cut out the chivalry. Bob. One of the things I liked about your world was the notion of treating men and women alike. Get unstuck from that stuff and start hanging it on me. I’m going.”
She looked like a Christmas tree when the dozen-odd books had been tied to various parts of her solid little figure, the automatic pistol strapped on, and the two slide rules, one long and one short, stuck in the pistol belt.
Howard fondled the large slide rule before he fastened it on. “Take good care of this slipstick, Bob,” he said, “I gave up smoking for six months to pay for it.”
Frost seated the two side by side on the sofa in the study. Helen slipped a hand into Bob’s. When the shining ball had been made to spin. Frost motioned for Jenkins to leave, closed the door after him and switched out the light. Then he started repeating hypnotic suggestions in a monotone.
Ten minutes later he felt a slight swish of air and ceased. He snapped the light switch. The sofa was empty, even of books.
Frost and Jenkins kept an uneasy vigil while awaiting Estelle’s return. Jenkins wandered nervously around the study, examining objects that didn’t interest him and smoking countless cigarets. The Professor sat quietly in his easy chair, simulating a freedom from anxiety that he did not feel. They conversed in desultory fashion.
“One thing I don’t see,” observed Jenkins, “is why in the world Helen could go a dozen places and not change, and Bob goes just one place and comes back almost unrecognizable-shorter, heavier, decked out in outlandish clothes. What happened to his ordinary clothes anyhow? How do you explain those things, Professor?”
“Eh? I don’t explain them-I merely observe them. I think perhaps he changed, while Helen didn’t, because Helen was just a visitor to the places she went to, whereas Monroe belonged over there-as witness he fitted into the pattern of that world. Perhaps the Great Architect intended for him to cross over.”
“Huh? Good heavens, Doctor, surely you don’t believe in divine predestination!”
“Perhaps not in those terms. But, Howard, you mechanistic skeptics make me tired. Your naive ability to believe that things ‘jest growed’ approaches childishness. According a you a fortuitous accident of entropy produced Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.”