cular hearing
cited a precedent seven hundred years old which stated that for legal
purposes a starman's biological and not his chronological age was to be
accepted.

The guardianship posed no problems for Alan, though. When he met with
Jesperson to discuss future plans, the lawyer told him, "You can handle
yourself, Alan. I'll give you free rein with the estate--with the
proviso that I have veto power over any of your expenditures until your
twenty-first birthday."

That sounded fair enough. Alan had reason to trust the lawyer; hadn't
Hawkes recommended him? "I'll agree to that," Alan said. "Suppose we
start right now. I'd like to take a year and travel around the world. As
my legal guardian you'll be stuck with the job of managing my estate and
handling investments for me."

Jesperson chuckled. "You'll be twice as wealthy when you get back!
Nothing makes money so fast as money."

Alan left the first week in December, having spent three weeks doing
virtually nothing but sketching out his itinerary. There were plenty of
places he intended to visit.

There was London, where James Hudson Cavour had lived and where his
hyperdrive research had been carried out. There was the Lexman Institute
of Space Travel in Zurich, where an extensive library of space
literature had been accumulated; it was possible that hidden away in
their files was some stray notebook of Cavour's, some clue that would
give Alan a lead. He wanted to visit the area in Siberia that Cavour had
used as his testing-ground, and from which the last bulletin had come
from the scientist before his unexplained disappearance.

But it was not only a business trip. Alan had lived nearly half a year
in the squalor of Hasbrouck--and because of his Free Status he would
never be able to move into a better district, despite his wealth. But he
wanted to see the rest of Earth. He wanted to travel just for the sake
of travel.

Before he left, he visited a rare book dealer in York City, and for an
exorbitant fifty credits purchased a fifth-edition copy of _An
Investigation into the Possibility of Faster-than-Light Space Travel_,
by James H. Cavour. He had left his copy of the work aboard the
_Valhalla_, along with the few personal possessions he had managed to
accumulate during his life as a starman.

The book dealer had frowned when Alan asked for the volume under the
title he knew. "_The Cavour Theory_? I don't think--ah, wait." He
vanished for perhaps five minu