in an intricate pattern.

The ship vanished.

As one, the many heads of the Vegan Scientists turned to stare at the point in the sky where they had first sighted the ship.

There it was, coasting past the laboratory-planet, tubes lifeless; coasting on the velocity that had brought it from the last star it had visited.

There it was, just as it had been before the tiny aliens had sighted the flickerings that had caused them to relax their meteor-screens.

There it was, sent back in time to before all the day's frantic happenings had happened.

Pud and Gop esprobed the distant aliens ... and then looked at each other in complete satisfaction.

"Fine!" Pud said. "They don't remember a thing ... not a single alimentary thing!" He looked around them, at the shambles of the laboratory. "It's a pity the experiment couldn't repair all this as well ... is everything turned off?"

"Everything, Master."

"No experiments operating, you nincompoop? No flashes?"

"None, Master."

"Then they should have no reason to land, you idiot.

"You know," Pud said, "in a way it was rather a fortunate thing that they landed. It enabled me to perform a very interesting experiment. We have demonstrated that a creature returned through time along the third flud-subcontinuum will not retain memory of the process, or of what transpired between a particular point in time and one's circular return to it. I'm glad you stimulated me to think of it. Best idea I ever had."

Pud turned his attention to the ruins of the laboratory. He moved off, half his heads agonizing over the destruction caused by today's encounter, the other half glowing at its satisfactory conclusion.

Gop sighed, and esprobed the little aliens for the last time ... a final check, to make certain that they remembered nothing.

"Johnny, how about that little planet down there ... to the left?"

"Let's drop the meteor-screens for a better look."

Hastily, Gop reached out and tapped the meteor aside.

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