Frost looked his companion over; helmet, short military kilt, short sword and accoutrements slapping at his thighs. He blinked and answered, “Yes. Yes, of course.”
As they swung into the city gates. Frost inquired, ‘Do you know where you are headed?” “Yes, certaintiy. To Star-Light’s villa in the Grove.” “And you know what to expect there?” “Oh, you mean our discussion. I know the customs here.
Master, and am quite undismayed, I assure you. Star-Light and I understand each other. She’s one of these ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ girls. Now that I’m back from Ultima Thule, she’ll give up the priesthood and we’ll settle down and raise a lot of fat babies.”
“Ultima Thule? Do you remember my study?”
“Of course I do-and Robert and Helen and all the rest.”
“Is that what you meant by Ultima Thule?”
“Not exactly. I can’t explain it. Master. I’m a practical military man. I’ll leave such things to you priests and teachers.”
They paused in front of Estelle’s house. “Coming in, Master?”
“No, I think not. I must be getting back.”
“You know best.” Howard clapped him on the shoulder. “You have been a true friend. Master. Our first brat shall be named for you.”
“Thank you, Howard. Good-bye, and good luck to both of you.”
“And to you.” He entered the house with a confident stride.
Frost walked slowly back toward the gates, his mind preoccupied with myriad thoughts. There seemed to be no end to the permutations and combinations; either of matter, or of mind. Martha, Robert, Helen-now Howard and Estelle. It should be possible to derive a theory that would cover them all.
As he mused, his heel caught on a loose paving block and he stumbled across his easy chair.
The absence of the five students was going to be hard to explain. Frost knew-so he said nothing to anyone. The weekend passed before anyone took the absences seriously. On Monday a policeman came to his house, asking questions.
His answers were not illuminating, for he had reasonably refrained from trying to tell the true story. The District Attorney smelled a serious crime, kidnapping or perhaps a mass murder. Or maybe one of these love cults-you can never tell about these professors!
He caused a warrant to be issued Tuesday morning, Sergeant Izowski was sent to pick him up.
The professor came quietly and entered the black wagon without protest, “Look,
Doc,” said the sergeant, encouraged by his docile manner, “why don’t you tell us where you hid ’em? You know we’re bound to dig them up in time.”
Frost turned, looked him in the eyes, and smiled, “Time,” he said softly, “ah, time…yes, you could dig them up, in Time.” He then got into the wagon and sat down quietly, closed his eyes, and placed his mind in the necessary calm receptive condition.
The sergeant placed one foot on the tailboard, braced his bulk in the only door, and drew out his notebook. When he finished writing he looked up.
Professor Frost was gone.
Frost had intended to look up Howard and Estelle. Inadvertently he let his mind dwell on Helen and Robert at the crucial moment. When he “landed” it was not in the world of the future he had visited twice before. He did not know where he was-on earth apparently, somewhere and somewhen.
It was wooded rolling country, like the hills of southern Missouri, or New Jersey. Frost had not sufficient knowledge of botany to be able to tell whether the species of trees he saw around him were familiar or not. But he was given no time to study the matter.
He heard a shout, an answering shout. Human figures came bursting out of the trees in a ragged line. He thought that they were attacking him, looked wildly around for shelter, and found none. But they kept on past him, ignoring him, except that the one who passed closest to him glanced at him hastily, and shouted something. Then he, too, was gone.
Frost was left standing, bewildered, in the small natural clearing in which he had landed.
Before he had had time to integrate these events one of the fleeing figures reappeared and yelled to him, accompanying the words with a gesture unmistakable-he was to come along.