upper."

"Yes ma'am," Fred said, eyeing the food hungrily. "Only--" She was at
the door. She stopped and looked around questioningly. "I--I think I'd
like to be alone while I eat."

"All right," she said, and hurried away.

But Captain Waters had brushed in without giving her a chance to tell
him to stay away. "Hello, son," he said warmly. "Have a good sleep?"

Mrs. Waters said, "You let him alone while he eats."

"It's all right," Fred said hastily.

"Sure it's all right," the police captain said. He sat down and took out
his pipe. He concerned himself with filling it and lighting it, saying
nothing.

Fred picked up a piece of golden toast and bit into one corner absently.
The thoughts he had had during sleep were filtering into consciousness.

He recalled how his mother had looked. There had been a fleeting
expression just before she had vanished. She had been going to say
something. _She had changed her mind and had vanished instead!_

And Curt--he had had his reorientation at least several seconds before
vanishing. He had had it, and then, with his new perspective, had said,
"So _that's_ it!"

It was as though the new orientation made everything else unimportant.

One common factor stood out in every case, those two he had personally
witnessed, and the others he hadn't seen. One common factor. Vanishing,
or whatever happened that produced the vanishing, had been an impulse.

There had been time for thought. For example, Curt might have considered
the practicality of telling Fred what had happened to him. But he might
have reflected that eventually Fred would discover what he had just
discovered, so why bother?

In the office Curt had told him of a whole city of a million people
vanishing, leaving empty houses and streets. Had the cause been the
same? A true orientation?

Fred looked at Captain Waters, sitting quietly, puffing slowly on his
pipe. With deliberation Waters uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.
"You know, son, when you get around to it--that is, if you feel up to it
sometime--I wish you'd tell me about it. What it is that's troubling
you. I'll try to understand."

"You'll try--?" Fred echoed. And the police captain's words started a
train of thought. The others--had the place they'd gone been a heaven or
a hell? So many of them--. Fred started suddenly. "The book!" he cried.

"What book?"

"I've got to see the publisher about my father's book. It's very
important."

"It can wait