"The final question," Walden said softly. "I wondered how long it would
be before you asked it. I wondered if you'd ever ask it.

"Haven't you ever thought about why I never married, Eric? Haven't you
ever asked yourself why I alone learned to read, and collected books,
and studied the old race?"

"No," Eric admitted. "I just accepted you."

"Even though I can perceive and you can't." Walden paused and Eric
waited, not knowing what was coming and yet sure that nothing could
surprise him now.

"My father was normal," Walden said slowly. "But I never saw him. My
mother was like you. So was my brother. We lived in the hills and I was
the only one who could perceive. I learned what it was to be different."

Eric stared. He couldn't stop staring. And yet he should have realized,
long ago, that Walden was different too, in his own way.

Walden smiled back, his face, shadowed in moonlight, as quiet and as
understanding as ever. For a moment neither spoke, and there was only
the faraway sound of crickets chirping and the rustling of the wind in
the gardens.

And then, from within the aircar, there was a different rustling, that
of a person moving.

"Lisa!"

Eric pushed the compartment panel back. The soft light came on
automatically, framing her where she curled against the far wall.

"You heard us?"

She nodded. Tears had dried on her cheeks. Her eyes were huge in her
thin face.

"We'd better go, Lisa."

He reached in to help her out.

They didn't see the aircar dropping in for a landing until it was almost
upon them, until its lights arced down over the museum walls.

"Hide, Eric. In here--" Lisa pulled him forward.

Behind them, Walden's voice, suddenly tired in the darkness. "It's too
late. They know I'm here. And they're wondering why."

The three of them stood frozen, watching each other, while the dark
shape of the car settled to the ground some thirty yards away.

"It's Abbot," Walden said. He paused, intent for a moment, and added,
"He doesn't know about you. Get out of sight somewhere, both of you,
away from here--"

"Come on, Lisa--" Eric swung away from the car, toward the shelter of
the building and whatever hiding place there might be. "Hurry!"

They ran, and the museum rose in front of them, and the door was open.
They were through it and into the dim corridor, and there was no one
around; Walden's figure was lost in the night outside. Beyond the
libraries the great ramp spiraled downwa