“Professor Thomas?” Gross said. “I’m Commander Gross of Security. This man with me is perhaps known to you—” The faded eyes fixed on Kramer. “I know him. Philip Kramer…. You’ve grown heavier, boy.” The voice was feeble, the rustle of dry ashes. “Is it true you’re married now?” “Yes. I married Dolores French. You remember her.” Kramer came toward the bed. “But we’re separated. It didn’t work out very well. Our careers—” “What we came here about, Professor,” Gross began, but Kramer cut him off with an impatient wave. “Let me talk. Can’t you and your men get out of here long enough to let me talk to him?” Gross swallowed. “All right, Kramer.” He nodded to the two men. The three of them left the room, going out into the hall and closing the door after them. The old man in the bed watched Kramer silently. “I don’t think much of him,” he said at last. “I’ve seen his type before. What’s he want?” “Nothing. He just came along. Can I sit down?” Kramer found a stiff upright chair beside the bed. “If I’m bothering you—” “No. I’m glad to see you again, Philip. After so long. I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out.” “How have you been?” “I’ve been very ill. I’m afraid that my moment on the world’s stage has almost ended.” The ancient eyes studied the younger man reflectively. “You look as if you have been doing well. Like everyone else I thought highly of. You’ve gone to the top in this society.” Kramer smiled. Then he became serious. “Professor, there’s a project we’re working on that I want to talk to you about. It’s the first ray of hope we’ve had in this whole war. If it works, we may be able to crack the yuk defenses, get some ships into their system. If we can do that the war might be brought to an end.” “Go on. Tell me about it, if you wish.” “It’s a long shot, this project. It may not work at all, but we have to give it a try.” “It’s obvious that you came here because of it,” Professor Thomas murmured. “I’m becoming curious. Go on.” After Kramer finished the old man lay back in the bed without
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