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time to know what was happening and there could have been no pain." Nim

hoped it was true. He went on, "But because of what happened, he was

disfigured."

Ardythe moaned.

11 Walter was my friend," Nim persisted. "I know bow be thought. He

wouldn't have wanted you to see him as he is now. He would have wanted you

to remember him He stopped, choked by his own emotion, not sure that

Ardythe had heard or, even if she had, had understood. Once more they sat

in silence.

More than an hour had gone bv since Nim arrived.

"Nim," Ardythe said at length. "Have you had any dinner?"

He shook his bead. "There wasn't time. I'm not hungry." He was having

trouble adjusting to Ardythe's sudden changes of mood.

She got up. "I'm going to make you something."

He followed her into the compact, orderly kitchen which Walter Talbot had

designed himself. Characteristically, Walter had first made a time and

motion study of functions to be performed, then positioned everything for

maximum convenience and a minimal need to move around. Nim seated himself

at an island worktable, watching Ardythe, not interfering, reasoning she

was better off with something to do.

She heated soup and served it in earthenware mugs, sipping her own while

she put together an omelette, seasoned with chives and musbrooms. When she

divided the omelette between them, Nim discovered he was hungry after all,

and ate with enjoyment. Ardythe made an initial effort, then left most of

her portion. '1-'hcy followed the meal with strong coffee which they took

into the living room.

Speaking quietly and rationally, Ardythe said, "I may insist on seeing

Walter."

"If you do," Nim told her, "no one can stop you. But I hope you won't."

"Those people who planted the bomb, who killed Walter and the others. Do

you think they'll be caught?"

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"Eventually. But it's never easy when you're dealing with crazies. Because

they aren't rational, it makes them harder to catch. But if they try

something similar-which they probably will-thc odds are on their being

caught and punished."

"I suppose I ought to care about them being punished. But I don't. Is that

bad?"

"No," Nim said. "In any case, other people will take care of that."

"Whatever happens, it can't change anything. It wouldn't bring Walter . .

. or the others . . . back." Ardytbe mused. "Did you know we were married

tbirty-six years? I should be grateful for that. It's more than many people

have, and most of the time was good . . . Thirty-six years . . ." She began

crying softly. "Hold me, Nim."

He put his arms around her and cradled her head on his shoulder. He could

feel her crying, though not hysterically any longer. These -were tears of

farewell and acceptance, of memory and love; gentle and cleansing tears as

the human psyche began its bealing process-as old, Unexplainable and

wondrous as life itself.

Holding Ardythe, Nim became aware of a fragrant, pleasing perfume. He bad

not no ticed it when they were close together earlier, and wondered when

she bad put it on. Probably when she went upstairs. He switched his

thoughts away.

It was getting late, Nim realized. Outside it was fully dark, the only

exterior lights from occasional passing vehicles. But the street was se-

cluded and quiet, with traffic infrequent. Inside, the house had settled

down, as houses do for the night, and was silent.

Ardythe stirred in Nim's arms. She bad stopped crying and moved closer. lie

breathed the heady perfume once more. Then, to his consternation, be

discovered his body becoming aroused, and an increasing awareness of

Ardythe as a woman. He tried to divert his mind with other thoughts, to

control and negate what was happening, but without success.

"Kiss me, Nim." She had moved so their faces were close. Their lips

touched, gently at first, then strongly; Ardythe's mouth was seductive,

Nvarm, demanding. As he felt sexual excitement surge in them both, he asked

himself: Can this be happening?

"Nim," she said softly, "turn out the lights."

He complied, a part of him urging: Don't do it! Go! Leave now! But even

while despising himself, he knew he wouldn't leave, and that the inner

voice was a token protest only.

There was plenty of room on the sofa. While be bad turned out the lights,

Ardytbc had removed some of her clothing-, he helped her with the rest and

swiftly shed his own. As tbev reached out, then held each other, he found

her eager, excited and experienced. Her fingers, traveling lightly, deftly,

sought to please him, and succeeded. He responded

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in kind. Soon, Ardythe moaned, then cried aloud, "Ob God, Nim! Don't wait

any longer, please . . . please!"

He had a last, vague stirring of conscience and a sudden, dismaying notion

that Wally Jr. and Mary might return, as they had said they would, and walk

in. Then that and all else dissolved as pleasure and passion engulfed him.

"You're troubled, aren't you?"

"Yes," Nim admitted. "Troubled as hell."

It was an hour later. They had dressed and the lights were on. A few

minutes ago Wally had phoned, announcing that he and Mary were on the way

back and both would stay the night.

"Don't be." Ardythe touched his arm lightly and gave a swift, shy smile.

"You've helped me more than you know."

Nim's instincts told him she had left something unsaid: That the

compatibility they had just shared was discovered rarely by two people and,

in all probability, the experience would be repeated. If so, there was now

a dual worry: Not only had be behaved shamefully on the day of his good

friend's death, but an additional complication had enterea his own life-one

he didn't need.

"I'd like to explain something," Ardythe said. "I loved Walter dearly. He

was a sweet, kind, gentle man. We had fun together; he was always

interesting to be with. Life without him . . . well, I can't begin to think

about that yet. But Walter and I hadn't had sex together for a long time-it

must be six or seven years. Walter simply couldn't manage it any more. That

often happens to men, you know, much more than to women."

Nim protested, "I don't want to hear .

"Whether you do or not, you're going to. Because I don't want you leaving

here tonight all mixed up and miserable. I'll tell you something else, Nim.

You didn't seduce me just now; I seduced you. And I knew what was going to

happen, what I wanted to happen, long before you did."

He thought: The perfume. It had acted on him like an aphrodisiac. Could

Ardytbe really have intended it that way?

"When a woman is deprived of sex at home," Ardythe went on firmly, "she

either manages or goes elsewhere. Well, I managed. I settled for what I

had, which was a good man I still loved, and I didn't go elsewhere. But it

didn't stop my wanting."

"Ardythe," Nim said, "please . . ."

"No, I'm almost finished. Today . . . tonight . when I realized I'd lost

everything, I wanted sex more than ever. Suddenly all that missing seven

years swept over me. And you were here, Nim. I've always liked

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you, maybe a little more than 'liked,' and you were here when I needed you

most." She smiled. "If you came to comfort me, you did. it's that simple.

Don't make it more complicated, or feel guilt where there should be none."

He sighed. "If you say so, I won't." It seemed an easy way to put con-

science to rest. Perhaps too easy.

"I say so. Now kiss me once more, and go home to Ruth."

He did as she said, and was relieved to be leaving before Wally and Mary

arrived.

In the car, driving home, Nim pondered the complexities of his personal

life. By comparison, the intricate conundrums of Golden State Power &

Light seemed simple and preferable. At the top of his own immediate

problem list were Ruth, their drifting-in-circles marriage, and now

Ardythe. Then there were other women he had bad affairs with from time

to time, including a couple of recent ones still simmering. Those kinds

of involvements seemed to happen to Nim without his seeking them. Or was

he deluding himself there? Did he, in fact, search out entanglements,

rationalizing later that they simply happened? Either way, for almost as

long as he could remember, there had been no lack of sexual

opportunities.

After his marriage to Ruth fifteen years ago, he had resolutely stayed

a onc-woman man-for about four years. Then an opportunity for ex-

tracurricular sex occurred, and he hadn't fought it. Afterward there had

been still more opportunities-some the usual one-night stands, others

that lasted enthusiastically for a while, then faded like bright stars

dimming before extinction. At first Nim assumed he could keep his sexual

philandering a secret from Rutb-the nature of his work with its heavy

demands of time, plus irregular hours, helped make that possible. Prob-

ably it even worked for a while. Then common sense told him that Ruth,

who was not only sensitive but shrewd, must realize what was happening.

The extraordinary thing was that she never protested, simply seeming to

accept. Illogically, Ruth's reaction-or, rather, the lack of it-galled

him and still did. She should have minded, ought to have protested,

perhaps shed angry tears. True, none of it might have made any

difference, but Nim had asked himself: Wasn't his defection at least

worth that much?

Something else Nim weighed from time to time was that news about his

womanizing seemed to become known no matter bow discreet he tried to be.

There bad been several examples of such leakages, the latest this

afternoon. What was it Teresa Van Buren had said? "You've got a few

things to learn about women, Nim-other than calisthenics in bed, and from

rumors I hear, you're getting plenty of that." Obviously

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Teresa bad more than rumors to go on or she would not have spoken so

bluntly. And if Teresa knew, so did others in GSP & L.

Was Nim imperiling his own career? If so, was it worth it? Why did be do

it, anyway? And was it for real or just a game?

"I'll be damned if I know," Nim said aloud in the small closed car, and

the remark seemed applicable to what he had been thinking about and a

good deal more.

His own house, near the outskirts of the city, was silent when be ar-

rived, with only a dim night-light in the downstairs hallway left burn-

ing. At Nim's urging, the Goldmans were a conservation-conscious family.

Upstairs be tiptoed into Leah's and Benly's rooms. Both youngsters were

sleeping soundly.

Ruth stirred as he came into their bedroom, and inquired sleepily, "What

time is it?"

He answered softly, "A little past midnight."

"How's Ardytbe?"

"I'll tell you in the morning."

The answer seemed satisfactory and Ruth returned to sleep.

Nim showered quickly, remembering that be should remove any traces of

Ardytbe's perfume, then climbed into his own twin bed. Moments later,

surrendering to exhaustion from the pressures of the day, he was asleep