His first surprise came when he discovered that as his head went through the opening, and into the machine, he could see through the material. From where he had been watching - outside - it had looked metallically opaque. But from inside, he could see, not clearly, but as through slightly tinted glass. The faces of several of the doctors - two women and three men - pressed into convex shaped formations in the metal, as if from those peepholes they were watching him.

  Caxton waited tensely, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly, he felt a sensation deep in his brain. Simultaneously, the little finger of his left hand twitched. Almost immediately, there was another sensation in his head. The fourth finger automatically closed upon the palm.

  He lay there, then, as his fingers, then his hands, then his elbows, then his arms at the shoulders, then his toes and feet and portions of his body, were twitched. Each time, the twitch was accompanied - perhaps ever so momentarily preceded - by that odd sensation inside his head. It was a testing of reflexes on a level, and by a method undreamed of in the twentieth century.

  Everything seemed to go along fine until they came to his eyes. Caxton could feel the eye muscles twitching, and a small series of painful aches as the process continued.

  Somewhere in there, the doctors withdrew over to the machine for a brief discussion; and Caxton had time to remember that, though he had never worn glasses, on occasion his vision had blurred; and he was subject to infrequent but severe eye-strain headaches…. He analysed, wonderingly, that they had spotted this condition.

  Shortly after he had had that thought, the medical discussion ended, and the doctors trooped back and peered in at him again. Abruptly, he experienced a sensation in his eyes that he had never had before; it was a high-speed eye-movement that he could feel as an exceedingly fast flickering motion.

  ‘Hey!’ said Caxton out loud, ‘what - ?’

  The accelerated eye motion stopped. A pause. Then the original eye muscle twitching process was repeated.

  This time, there was no buildup of an ache.

  A minute or so after that, a breathless and admiring Caxton was wheeled out of the machine. He grew aware that a conversation was going on between the doctors and Cassellahat. The latter turned to Caxton as he got up and walked back to the chair where his clothes were.

  Cassellahat said, ‘They want to know, where are you going, Mr Caxton?’

  He spoke gravely, and Caxton was about to take the question seriously when he realised that there was a twinkle in the older man’s eyes. He did a double-take on that, took a deep breath, and said, ‘Am I that nervous?’

  Cassellahat nodded. ‘Nervous, jittery, unable to lie still. You need a rest.’

  ‘I’ve been resting for five hundred years,’ said Caxton.

  ‘They don’t want to give you any tranquilising drugs,’ said Cassellahat, ‘so try to relax. Think peaceful thoughts.’

  I know, thought Caxton. The journey is over, we are here, we’ve got all the time we need … up to age ninety. Even as he reassured himself, he realised that he didn’t believe it. His attention was already leaping ahead to the moment when he could make his first move to find the trail, in this time, of the Possessors.

  It was, of course, completely mad, he told himself. He sat there for a moment by himself, and looked around that delightful room…. I ought to feel happy just to be in a place like this, having this terrific experience.

  But he wasn’t happy. He watched absently as the doctors again did something with Renfrew. It occurred to him that one of the women doctors was rather good-looking. Maybe - the possibility buoyed him for a few instants of time - a female doctor would have a clinical attitude toward the odors of a male from the past, and might for strictly clinical purposes also be interested in a little sex with such a smelly type. Perhaps he ought to convey to her his own willingness to participate in such an experiment.

  He was still idly having thoughts like that when Renfrew climbed to his feet and rejoined his two companions from the twentieth century. Simultaneously, all nine of the doctors filed out through a door, and disappeared.

  Cassellahat came over. ‘They’re off for lunch,’ he said. ‘Let me show you how to operate the kitchen of this apartment.’

  Caxton asked, ‘They’ll be back?’

  ‘Oh, yes; the examination is only about half over.’

  Later, when the examination was finally complete for all of them, one of the men doctors sat beside the debriefing machine and spoke at such length that Cassellahat at last held up his hand and stopped him. Then he turned and smiled at his charges. ‘He was overwhelming us with information. But, in effect, here is what he said -’

  All three were in good physical health, and essentially this was also true of their mental condition. Presumably, as they became more acclimatised to their new environment - in brief, settled down - Mr Caxton’s sense of insecurity, Mr Renfrew’s feelings of loss - so that’s how they were wording what had bothered Renfrew! - and Mr Blake’s uneasiness over their body odor, would be resolved by experience.

  Insofar as the odor was concerned - Cassellahat spread his hands expressively as he explained, ‘Dr Manadann says that smell is a volatile substance emitted by body, plant or object, and what you gentlemen, emit does not seem to have these characteristics. Further tests are in order, but in a properly equipped laboratory.’

  There was more, but that was the essence. Several of the other doctors also spoke, but more briefly, and all that seemed to add up to the picture that apparently they carried nothing which would be infectious for the protected populations of this period of history.

  This was followed by an even shorter discussion about making clothes for them that would be interwoven with and fitted with a balancing energy field. Thus, except for their heads and hands, the odor they produced could be minimised for all practical purposes. But they shouldn’t go in swimming, nor strip for sun-bathing around other people.

  Once again Cassellahat spread his hands and, again smiling, said, ‘Well, that’s it. You’re free to go where you wish. The universe of 2476 A.D. is - what is the saying? - your oyster. Off you go - by tomorrow at the latest - for a good time.’

  Blake said, ‘We’d better not go anywhere except maybe on some private tours until we get those clothes.’

  One of the doctors spoke again, a request of some kind, as far as Caxton could make out (the language was becoming slightly less difficult-sounding). When the message was completed, Cassellahat explained that the doctors would like ‘one of the three gentlemen’ to accompany them for additional testing. It seemed that they would prefer that it be Renfrew.

  Renfrew said, ‘You mean, like, I’ll be taken with them right now, while my two buddies’ - he put his arm affectionately around Caxton, who happened to be standing close to him - ‘remain here?’

  The sudden act of friendliness confused Caxton. Buddies, he thought scornfully, that’s all I need. By the time his attention could unfix from these feelings, the arrangements were made. Renfrew and the doctors departed. Men came and wheeled away the machines. Cassellahat was the last to leave, and he paused at the door. ‘Well, Mr Caxton, have you had time to form an opinion about the people of this era?’

  Caxton had to admit, no. It had seemed like a pretty blank day to him, people-wise. Which was not surprising. Doctors doing their professional thing were singularly like robots, and not really like human beings.

  Aloud, he said, ‘I thought we were going to be interviewed today, and then I’d be able to make up my mind. What about that?’

  A strange look came into Cassellahat’s face; he was suddenly flustered. ‘But’ - he almost breathed the words - ‘didn’t you understand? That entire medical examination was being broadcast to all four planets.’ He began to recover at that point, and he apologised, ‘I see now that I just took it for granted that you would recognise ordinary television equipment.’

  ‘Television!’ moaned Blake, who was standing off to one side.

  ‘You mean,’ said Caxton, ‘we were being seen all day without -’ He wanted to say ‘without any clothes on.’ But the words wouldn’t come. His thoughts were piling up in his head, thick and fast now.

  He was vaguely aware of Cassellahat speaking again. ‘Oh, yes. All day. You must realise, gentlemen’ - he was completely calm once more - ‘that your arrival is a long-awaited event, and the people of all four planets are intensely interested in every detail of your stay here.’

  Caxton parted his lips to protest the imposition. But out of the corner of one eye he saw that Blake was trying to attract his attention. Having done so, Blake winked. And Caxton, silenced by the interruption, realised that Cassellahat was not capable of grasping what was bothering them.

  Afterward, after Cassellahat was gone, and they were discussing the day and the startling revelation at its end, Caxton learned from Blake that Renfrew would be away overnight, a piece of information which he had missed during his confusion over Renfrew’s gesture of affection. Pretty slick, he thought admiringly, the way they whisked him off.

  Aloud, he said, ‘I imagine he’s to be the subject of additional treatments under the guise of testing.’

  Blake nodded.

  Caxton persisted. ‘Jim was unsuspicious?’

  ‘Completely, as far as I could observe,’ said his companion. ‘In fact, he was delighted. He will be flown across the city, a privilege we won’t have until tomorrow.’

  ‘I thought we were free,’ said Caxton, ‘and that we had the keys to the city.’

  Blake laughed. He had been allowing his moustache to grow again, and there was now a black line across his upper lip. Something of the original modern look that he had had when Caxton first met him was returning with the moustache.

  He said, ‘Not till tomorrow, apparently. But we can remain here.’

  ‘Oh!’ Caxton looked around. ‘In this apartment?’ As Blake nodded again, Caxton said, ‘Well, that’s at least one step forward. What time is it?’

  Simultaneously, both men looked at their watches, and both were startled to realise that it was after nine in the evening. As they considered what they should do, a bell sounded softly from the kitchen. They arrived in time to see the stove mechanism (which Cassellahat had demonstrated to them at lunch) push plates loaded with steaming hot food out on to a table.

  Blake ventured the guess that the food was for them, and suggested that before anyone came in to argue with that assumption, they eat.

  Which they did.

  On retiring to one of the bedrooms, Caxton discovered a number of pamphlets titled: Printed Historical Guides for our Distinguished Visitors from the Past. They were in English, and there were enough of them so that he was able to read until he fell asleep.

  And that was the first full day in Alpha Centauri.

  When Caxton awakened the following morning, he was still weary from his long night of avid reading. But Renfrew was back. And so, presently, dressed and with breakfast in their stomachs, they were ready for their second day on a Centaurus planet.

  XVI

  They were now led out of the apartment.

  It was interesting, to Caxton, to watch Renfrew; the man had already been out, and visibly felt good about pointing out to Blake and Caxton things that he had already learned.

  First, they went through a door and found themselves in a gleaming corridor of the big spaceship that had come to meet them two days ago. Down some steps, then, to a floor that moved - and speeded up as soon as they got on it. When they stepped off that, they walked a short distance to another door.

  As that door opened, a soft breeze met them, and they found themselves at a height but outdoors and looking over a vast gleaming concourse - some equivalent of an air field. Above was bluish-green sky, not too different from Earth’s.

  Except that there were two suns in the sky: one about the size of Sol was a quarter of the way up in the eastern sky. The other was bright, white, and as large as a tennis ball. It was inches away from sinking over a mountain in the west.

  Caxton stopped and gazed at the scene. And for a moment, then, he forgot his own channeled purposes; and he stared, and tears came to his eyes, and he thought: We’re here! We really are!

  Beside him, Blake was saying to Renfrew, ‘They took you this way last night?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Lucky dog.’

  Renfrew said modestly that he didn’t think their hosts worried about which one of them saw it all first, since they were not planning to withhold it from any of them. But he glanced knowledgeably at Cassellahat. ‘Same escalator?’ he asked.

  The old man nodded and so it was Renfrew who led the way through an opaque turnstile, and there, slanting down alongside the ship all the way to the concourse below, was a gangplank with an escalator.

  A quite ordinary looking bus was waiting for them at the bottom of the escalator, and when they got inside and sat down, they were driven to a distant gate, and then on to a street that didn’t look too much different from that of any large foreign city on Earth, except that the street was very wide. And what was also different was that they now saw Fly-O’s for the first time.

  They were driven along streets that were, every one, extremely wide, to a hotel which they entered by a back door. Then up an elevator to the very top and into a lavish penthouse apartment.

  Inside, a smiling Cassellahat said, ‘Gentlemen from the twentieth century, among many other things yesterday, you were photographed, as a result, several suits of special clothing have been woven to measure for each of you. Your names are printed in the pockets.’

  He waved his hand expansively. ‘So find your bedrooms, get dressed, and I’ll be back here when your personal Fly-O’s arrive.’

  The Fly-O’s were delivered late that afternoon. It turned out that they would not learn how they worked yet. The explaining physicist, it seemed, would come around in the late evening. But Cassellahat, who had his own machine available in the hotel checkroom for such devices, would be happy, he said, to show them the simple operational details. The three men were willing, so he took them to a large patio behind the hotel. And, slipping on his own unit, he rose vertically to a height of twenty feet and called out to his charges, ‘Come on!’

  They came one by one, first Ned Blake, who said, ‘Hey!’ gleefully as he soared up; then Renfrew, who went up silent but smiling; and finally, reluctantly, Caxton. His reluctance came from the fact that he swiftly observed several outward differences in this machine from the one that he had studied, which was only connected to the shoulder straps with a couple of loops that curled down between the legs, as an additional support. In this one, you fastened a support between the legs, which was only connected to the shoulder straps by a thin cord; and in addition you slipped two elastic mesh slipper-like things over each of your shoes. And these, also, were attached to the shoulders only by the same type of thin cord. It seemed to Caxton that there was no way in which all the separate items could work together to hold him up, since they were not bracing each other. He could see from the way the other men were holding themselves that there was some kind of interaction, but how they got it was not clear.

  Caxton hesitated, thinking that he liked to know about such things before he trusted himself to them. Then he hesitated again, thinking that after all Blake and Renfrew really had nothing to lose because they weren’t going anywhere else, and he was; his goal was immortality. And then he hesitated once more, thinking that it was too fast; one shouldn’t have to do things like this except by gradational scale, first five feet, then ten, and maybe no higher than that the first day.

  As he came to that point, he realised he was now a marked man. Blake came swooping down, and said in a low voice, ‘Peter, for God’s sake, don’t disgrace us.’ Caxton resisted for only a few seconds after that. Abruptly, he grabbed and gently squeezed the tiny control that hung down from one wrist.

  The shoulder straps tightened first. Then there was a pressure around his seat and between his legs. And at the same time his feet grew firm. Caxton was so intent on these sensations that he was actually several feet off the ground while he was still bracing himself for the first lift. He gasped. Then he held his breath. And then he was up twenty feet with the others; and it was that simple, and it was delightful, and oh, my God!

  As the four of them climbed to a height of what was eventually about five hundred feet, Cassellahat explained that that was the upper limit for individual Fly-O flight.

  ‘But there’s no real restriction,’ he added. ‘Wherever you are, over a mountain or over a sea, the machine will fly at any height up to the maximum of five hundred feet.’

  Caxton had not considered it a restriction. What did bother him was the conversation he overheard as he flew silent beside the other three men … about the journeys that were being planned, the places they would go. It had the sound of a busy itinerary, and a long time before they’d ever get to Earth. The thought saddened him, but there was nothing he could do about it.

  That first flight took them over the large city of Newmerica on the planet, then out and over a bay from which a distant ocean was visible, and finally back to their hotel.

  After dinner in their apartment, Caxton brought out his Fly-O unit, and, with Blake and Renfrew watching him with interest, tried to take it apart.

  He couldn’t even open the unit. He was still struggling with it when Cassellahat arrived with not one but two physicists and a mechanic. The difference between the 2083 A.D. Fly-O and the present one was explained to him then, while the mechanic expertly took his unit apart.

  The original Fly-O operated on a compact battery which set up opposing fields around a column of what was called junk. The junk was a unit of interacting circuits which had a present relation to the earth below. By shifting the field, the relation could be altered. Thus the Fly-O raised or lowered in order to maintain its current distance above the ground. If the junk was large enough, when the preset distance was adjusted for a greater gap, it would lift a man.