etimes deep and fathomless. She wore a loose, filmy nightgown and the
suggestion of her body under it was enough to bring on a touch of
madness in him.

"Let me say it," Ciel said. She wasn't smiling. "You won't be home for a
while. You've got another case."

"Well--yes. That's it, more or less." Pell swallowed.

"Oh, Dick."

"I'm sorry, honey. It's just that something important came up. I've got
a conference on my hands. It shouldn't take more than an hour."

"And we were supposed to leave for the moon in the morning."

"Listen, baby, this is absolutely the last time. I mean it. As soon as
this thing is washed up we'll _really_ take that vacation. Look, I'll
tell you what, I'll meet you somewhere in an hour. We'll have some
fun--take in a floor show--drink a little meth. We haven't done that in
a long time. How about the Stardust Cafe? I hear they've got a terrific
new mentalist there."

Ciel said, "No."

"Don't be like that. We need an evening out. It'll hold us until I get
this new case washed up. That won't be long, but at least we'll have a
little relaxation."

Ciel said, "Well...."

"Attababy. One hour. Absolutely. You just go to Station B-90, take the
lift to topside and it's right on Shapley Boulevard there. You can't
miss it."

"I know where it is," said Ciel. She shook her finger. "Richard Pell, so
help me, if you stand me up this time...."

"Baby!" he said in a tone of deep injury.

"Goodbye, Dick." She clicked off.

Pell had the feeling that even the free-flowing meth and the gaiety of
the Stardust Cafe wouldn't really help matters much. He sighed deeply as
he turned and went back into the other room.

Chapter II

A little over an hour later he stepped from the elevator kiosk at
Station B-90 and breathed the night air of topside. It was less pure
actually than the carefully controlled tunnel air, but it was somehow
infinitely more wonderful. At least to a sentimental primitive boob like
Richard Pell, it was. Oh, he knew that it was infinitely more sensible
to live and work entirely underground as people did these days--but just
the same he loved the look of the black sky with the crushed diamonds of
stars thrown across it and he loved the uneven breeze and the faint
smell of trees and grass.

This particular topside section was given over to entertainment; all
about him were theaters and cafes and picnic groves and airports for
flying sports. A few hundred feet ahead he could s