“But you want to spend it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Polikartos admitted reluctantly. “Yes, I want to take your money, Mr. Abbott. I want to very badly.”

“Then, you’ll get me the address? We have a contract?”

Polikartos gestured at the terminal. “No contract. Only words. Press a button and it’s wiped. You couldn’t hold me to anything in a court of law.”

“I’m not trying to. We have a different kind of contract. You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do.” The investigator eyed him curiously. “I think maybe you’re in the wrong business, Mr. Abbott. You’re, what’d you tell me last time? A design engineer. You make up computer guts.”

“Something like that.”

“I think maybe you should be selling them instead of designing them. You’re one fine salesman, Abbott.”

“Then, you’ll call me?” Eric stood, anxious to leave the office before the uncertain investigator could change his mind again.

“Yes, I’ll call you. If I find out what you want to know. It was hard, very hard, to learn the little bit I’ve told you.”

“You know her name. You know who or what she works for.” In his mind he did not accept Polikartos’s jaded suggestion, that she might be someone’s property. A face that beautiful could not be owned.

“You make it sound so easy, Mr. Abbott. It’s not. You go back to your designing. I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s all I ask. You have my phone number. I have a free-accept terminal. Don’t feel you have to communicate with me person-to-person.”

“I don’t. I also don’t know why I’m listening to you.”

“For the money, of course.”

“At least you’re not a complete romantic.”

“I’m not as ignorant of the real world as you seem to think.”

“Then maybe there’s hope for you, though I think not. Good-bye, Mr. Abbott.”

Eric left quickly, without another word.

He considered calling in sick again the next day, but the idea of sitting by the terminal waiting for some communication from Polikartos was absurd. So was the thought of sitting there trying to concentrate on his work. He went into the office, made small talk, had lunch with Charlie, chatted about inconsequentials on the tube homeward.

He resisted the urge to rush into the bedroom to check the terminal. When he finally could stand it no longer, he found the day file blank except for the arrival of his electric bill. A quick search showed that no one else had tried to get in touch with him.

The next morning he tried Polikartos’s office, ran into the polite and impenetrable electronic secretary. He tried all morning from work, not caring what his office might think of the flurry of personal calls over company lines. He was important enough to get away with that. He hoped.

“What’s on your mind?” Charlie asked him as they sat down to lunch in the upper-level cafeteria. “She turn you down?”

“What?” said Eric, suddenly confused. “Did who turn me down?”

“Hey, easy on the violence, old man.” Charlie put up his hands in a defensive posture.

Violence, Eric thought? Did I speak violently? Surely not. Better, though, to follow through than to contradict oneself. He made a show of mock distress, waving his arms about.

“She ran off with a Ruritanian prince. Even now I am assembling a task-force of cutthroats and murderers to seek out and rescue her!”

That put Charlie off stride more than an abrupt denial would have. He laughed uncertainly.

“Glad to hear it. I was starting to get worried about you, old sod. I really thought you were going to start doing dumb things.”

Eric sipped at his iced tea. “I’ve thought about her a couple of times, but not seriously enough to try doing anything about it. There’s nothing to be done, is there? She’s nothing more than a fading memory.”

How simple lying was. Like computers. A / is a yes, a 0 is a no. Truth is a /, falsehood a 0. If only it were that simple.

It was easy for Charlie to believe him, because it made sense, and Eric was nothing if not a sensible person.

“Right. Hey, I saw that gal from the pool. What was her name?”

“Gabriella,” Eric reminded him.

“Yeah, Gabriella. In the elevator yesterday. She asked about you.”

“That’s interesting.”

Charlie frowned. “You’re sure you’re still not hung up on that stranger? You’re sure as hell preoccupied with something.”

“It’s the trip,” Eric hastened to assure his friend. “I’ve a lot riding on this trip, Charlie. Maybe even a jump up to Senior Designer.”

“Yeah, I know. Wouldn’t that be something, at your age? That’s why I don’t want you screwing it up over some idiotic obsession.”

“I have no intention of screwing up,” Eric said with exaggerated dignity. “Matter of fact, if anyone’s obsessed with this, I think it’s you. You’re the one doing all the talking.”

Charlie was suddenly on the defensive. “I’m just concerned, as a friend. Forget it, all right? You already have.”

“Not entirely.” It wouldn’t do to appear too strenuous in his disclaimers. “I still see that face once in a while.”

See it, he thought wildly, I can’t escape it. Even in my dreams.

What he said was, “It’s nice to reflect on. You know, like a play you’ve seen. Parts of it stick with you for a while. That’s not obsession, just thoughtfulness.”

Charlie nodded, looked at his watch. “I’m finished. Still got fifteen minutes. Want to play some Space Zone or Zero Gee Race?”

Eric shook his head. “Too early for me to play games.”

“Suit yourself. Dessert?”

“Sure, why not,” Eric said, grateful that his friend had apparently forgotten all about the mystery woman.

Conversation over pie shifted to the news of the day. Charlie didn’t mention the girl in the car again. With luck he never would. Eric had enough trouble coping with his friend’s rapid-fire small talk without having to deal with recurrent probing into his private life.

As the afternoon slid by and periodic checks of his home terminal continued to show no contact with Polikartos, Eric found his mind wandering further and further from his work.