r ... and didn't hear him.

* * * * *

It had been so easy that Clocker was disappointed. The first voices had
argued gently and reasonably over him, each claiming priority for one
reason or another, until one either was assigned or pulled rank. That
was the voice that Clocker eventually kept hearing--a quiet, calm voice
that constantly faded and grew stronger, as if it came from a great
distance and had trouble with static. Clocker remembered the crystal set
his father had bought when radio was still a toy. It was like that.

Then the unreality vanished and was replaced by a dramatic new reality.
He was somewhere far away. He knew it wasn't on Earth, for this was like
nothing except, perhaps, a World's Fair. The buildings were low and
attractively designed, impressive in spite of their softly blended
spectrum of pastel colors. He was in a huge square that was
grass-covered and tree-shaded and decorated with classical sculpture.
Hundreds of people stood with him, and they all looked shaken and
scared. Clocker felt nothing but elation; he'd arrived. It made no
difference that he didn't know where he was or anything about the setup.
He was where Zelda was.

[Illustration]

"How did I get here?" asked a little man with bifocals and a vest that
had pins and threaded needles stuck in it. "I can't take time for
pleasure trips. Mrs. Jacobs is coming in for her fitting tomorrow and
she'll positively murder me if her dress ain't ready."

"She can't," Clocker said. "Not any more."

"You mean we're dead?" someone else asked, awed. It was a softly pudgy
woman with excessively blonde hair, a greasily red-lipped smile and a
flowered housecoat. She looked around with great approval. "Hey, this
ain't bad! Like I always said, either I'm no worse than anybody else or
they're no better'n me. How about that, dearie?"

"Don't ask me," Clocker evaded. "I think somebody's going to get an
earful, but you ain't dead. That much I can tell you."

The woman looked disappointed.

Some people in the crowd were complaining that they had families to take
care of while others were worried about leaving their businesses. They
all grew silent, however, when a man climbed up on a sort of marble
rostrum in front of them. He was very tall and dignified and wore formal
clothes and had a white beard parted in the center.

"Please feel at ease," he said in a big, deep, soothing voice, like a
radio announcer for a sym