man said, "but when you talk, it makes sense. Let's get on with it."

Benson used the brief silence which followed to study the six. With the
exception of the two who had just spoken, there was the indefinable mark
of the fanatic upon all of them--people fanatical about different
things, united for different reasons in a single purpose. It reminded
him sharply of some teachers' committee about to beard a school-board
with an unpopular and expensive recommendation.

Anthony--the oldest of the lot, in a knee-length tunic--turned to
Gregory.

"I believe you had better...." he began.

"As to who we are, we'll explain that, partially, later. As for your
question, 'Where am I?' that will have to be rephrased. If you ask,
'When and where am I?' I can furnish a rational answer. In the temporal
dimension, you are fifty years futureward of the day of your death;
spatially, you are about eight thousand miles from the place of your
death, in what is now the World Capitol, St. Louis."

Nothing in the answer made sense but the name of the city. Benson
chuckled.

"What happened; the Cardinals conquer the world? I knew they had a good
team, but I didn't think it was that good."

"No, no," Gregory told him earnestly. "The government isn't a theocracy.
At least not yet. But if The Guide keeps on insisting that only
beautiful things are good and that he is uniquely qualified to define