able to take the sight of you . Or, if I could stand it, would still rather not. Or maybe, as you continued, your voice so happy to be speaking to me again, I wondered if perhaps the passage of time bad only left a permanent hut healed-over sear. The pain finally gone SO now I could-what? tolerate the sight of you? Come here and look at you with only simple distaste now? Curiosity with the lip curled?" Rube's courte- ous smile remained and-he managed this-seemed without strain. "Or maybe none of those. When I thought of Rube Prien these days was it, I asked myself, with only a kind of mental shrug?
A feeling of: Oh well, it was all some time ago, so what the hell."
"And what did you decide?" Now Rube indicated a wooden up- right chair. "Sit down, please, Doctor."
"No, I want to go upstairs and look around. See the Project again. It's why I decided to come. And therefore decided also on an attitude of tolerant curiosity, Rube. On viewing you with an air of faint cold amusement. That's what I'm doing now, if you can't tell. Looking you over, a little amused at your presumption. Won- dering how the hell you could possibly have the nerve to speak to me even by phone. Let alone ask me to lunch! So-speaking calmly, Rube, tolerantly amused at your presumption-what the hell do you want?"
"Your help. And, if it's possible . . . to make a beginning at re- storing a friendship that at least I still feel."
"You know, maybe I really am amused. The nerve. The fucking nerve of you. Now, once again-what do you want?"
For a moment, eyes pleasant, Rube stood looking at Danziger.
Then, on apparent impulse, he put out his hand. "To make a new start."
Danziger stood shaking his head incredulously. Then, continu- ing to shake his head, began to grin reluctantly. "The nerve," he said, but took Rube's hand. "Come on." He turned away toward a metal-sheathed door in the wall opposite the street-side wall. "Let's go up." Rube moved ahead to pull the door open, holding it for
Danziger, who stepped through to stand glancing curiously around the tiny, concrete-floored space before the closed elevator doors. Grinning now, Rube stepped in, and Danziger said, "You treacherous bastard: something I didn't quite anticipate in all my ruminations, but it seems I still retain some sort of senile liking for you. Who'da thunk it." He poked the elevator button, and the doors slipped open.
On the top floor, the sixth, they walked along a vinyl-tiled corn- dor, the tall older man glancing around, eves sharp with interest. lie earned his hat in his hand now, was bald, the to1) of his head freckled, his side hair dyed black. This looked like a floor of an office building, directional arrows stenciled on the walls indicating groups of office numbers; black-and-white plastic nameplates be- side some of the closed doors. Danziger nodded at one that read:
K. Veach. "Katherine Veach. Katie," he said, "nice girl," and stopped. "I'll just step in for a moment, say hello."
"'Fraid she's not here today, Doctor."
Just ahead Danziger stopped again, at an unmarked door. "This leads to the catwalks, I believe. I'd like to go in again, Rube, look down at the Big Floor.
"Well-"
But Danziger stood stubbornly shaking his head with something of the old authority he had once held here. "Rube, I want to see it. It won't take long."
"What I was going to say, Dr. D, is that I didn't bring my keys today."
For a moment Danziger stood looking at Rube; then they walked on, turned a corner, and stopped at the conference room door.
Danziger would not open it, and Rube Prien reached past him to turn the knob, and gestured him in. For a moment longer Dan- ziger stood looking up and down the long corridor, then walked in saying, "Rube, where is everybody today?"
"Well"-Rube followed him, closing the door-"it's the week- end, Doctor. So I expect they're home. Sleeping late. Reading the paper. Whatever." He stepped toward a chair at the long table, on which an attaché case lay,
A feeling of: Oh well, it was all some time ago, so what the hell."
"And what did you decide?" Now Rube indicated a wooden up- right chair. "Sit down, please, Doctor."
"No, I want to go upstairs and look around. See the Project again. It's why I decided to come. And therefore decided also on an attitude of tolerant curiosity, Rube. On viewing you with an air of faint cold amusement. That's what I'm doing now, if you can't tell. Looking you over, a little amused at your presumption. Won- dering how the hell you could possibly have the nerve to speak to me even by phone. Let alone ask me to lunch! So-speaking calmly, Rube, tolerantly amused at your presumption-what the hell do you want?"
"Your help. And, if it's possible . . . to make a beginning at re- storing a friendship that at least I still feel."
"You know, maybe I really am amused. The nerve. The fucking nerve of you. Now, once again-what do you want?"
For a moment, eyes pleasant, Rube stood looking at Danziger.
Then, on apparent impulse, he put out his hand. "To make a new start."
Danziger stood shaking his head incredulously. Then, continu- ing to shake his head, began to grin reluctantly. "The nerve," he said, but took Rube's hand. "Come on." He turned away toward a metal-sheathed door in the wall opposite the street-side wall. "Let's go up." Rube moved ahead to pull the door open, holding it for
Danziger, who stepped through to stand glancing curiously around the tiny, concrete-floored space before the closed elevator doors. Grinning now, Rube stepped in, and Danziger said, "You treacherous bastard: something I didn't quite anticipate in all my ruminations, but it seems I still retain some sort of senile liking for you. Who'da thunk it." He poked the elevator button, and the doors slipped open.
On the top floor, the sixth, they walked along a vinyl-tiled corn- dor, the tall older man glancing around, eves sharp with interest. lie earned his hat in his hand now, was bald, the to1) of his head freckled, his side hair dyed black. This looked like a floor of an office building, directional arrows stenciled on the walls indicating groups of office numbers; black-and-white plastic nameplates be- side some of the closed doors. Danziger nodded at one that read:
K. Veach. "Katherine Veach. Katie," he said, "nice girl," and stopped. "I'll just step in for a moment, say hello."
"'Fraid she's not here today, Doctor."
Just ahead Danziger stopped again, at an unmarked door. "This leads to the catwalks, I believe. I'd like to go in again, Rube, look down at the Big Floor.
"Well-"
But Danziger stood stubbornly shaking his head with something of the old authority he had once held here. "Rube, I want to see it. It won't take long."
"What I was going to say, Dr. D, is that I didn't bring my keys today."
For a moment Danziger stood looking at Rube; then they walked on, turned a corner, and stopped at the conference room door.
Danziger would not open it, and Rube Prien reached past him to turn the knob, and gestured him in. For a moment longer Dan- ziger stood looking up and down the long corridor, then walked in saying, "Rube, where is everybody today?"
"Well"-Rube followed him, closing the door-"it's the week- end, Doctor. So I expect they're home. Sleeping late. Reading the paper. Whatever." He stepped toward a chair at the long table, on which an attaché case lay,
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