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It would be just the three of them, for heaven knew how long. Just the three of them eating together, talking together, being together. The three of them and no one else. Suppose his coming here this way got things off on the wrong foot? Wouldn’t it be better to go back and get Verne to come and fetch her? Wouldn’t that be less awkward? They knew each other; at least, a little. They had seen each other before.

But perhaps he had seen her, too. He might have seen her, talked to her, without knowing her name.

He thought back. There had been so many women working for the Company in the time he had been there. It could be any one of them. She might even be old. As old as Verne. A thin, middle-aged spinster. With glasses and grey hair.

Or she might be one of the little girls just out of high school, bright red lips, fuzzy sweater, clattering heels. A strange giddiness moved through Carl. She might be sweet and smiling, with warm dark eyes, soft hair— and the rest.

Carl searched his pockets until he found his comb. He combed his hair into place carefully, as best he could without a mirror. He straightened his tie, brushing down his coat. He took a deep breath, his heart beating rapidly inside him. All at once he was gasping for air, nervous and excited. The palms of his hands were moist.

Suddenly the door opened. Carl blinked in the light. A woman was standing, framed in the doorway. A towel over her shoulder. Short and square in a dark bathrobe, slippers around her feet. Hands full of jars.

“Jesus!” the woman exclaimed.

“I—” Carl muttered.

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing out there?” She dumped her armload down on a chair inside the room. Carl caught a glimpse of a small room, a bed, a table, a lamp, some women’s clothing—

“I came to see you. I’m the other person. You and Verne and I. We’re the three who’re staying.”

The woman said nothing.

“I was just about to knock.” His voice sounded feeble, apologetic. Doomed. “It’s the truth!”

Abruptly she laughed. “All right. You sure scared me. I was going down the hall for a bath. I thought everyone was gone.”

“Everyone but us three.”

“Come here so I can see what you look like.” She moved to one side, pushing the door back. “Come inside. Do you want some coffee?”

“Coffee?” Carl went into the room. On the table was a little round Silex coffee maker, half full of black coffee. Steam drifted from the lip. A package of sugar, a spoon, paper cups, some hairpins, a ring—

“What’s your name?” the woman said.

“Carl Fitter.”

“I think I’ve seen you around.”

“I think I’ve seen you.” Carl studied her out of the corner of his eye. Barbara Mahler was standing with her hands in the pockets of her robe. She was small and chunky, with thick brown hair. Attractive. Her skin was smooth and clear. She was, perhaps, twenty-five. But there was a stern hardness in her face that made her look older. A reserve. Almost dignity.

“My name’s Barbara Mahler.”

“I know. Verne told me.”

“Oh, yes. Verne.”

“Do you know him?”

She nodded.

Carl walked around the room. “It’s so barren!”

“I have to get my things back out I was packed. Everything’s crated up.”

“Maybe we can give you a hand.”

“Fine.” She lit a cigarette and stood by the door, her arms folded.

“Did—did you want to come over to the office later on tonight? We should see about dinner. And maybe we could have a conference. The three of us.”

“A conference?”

“To decided what we’re going to do while we’re here.” He gestured vaguely. “To consider things.”

“What things?”

“Oh, there are always things to consider.”

“Enough for all three of us?”

“Certainly. First of all, we have to make sure there’s food. Secondly, we want to make sure that the gas and water are still turned on. Then, we—”

Barbara laughed. “Okay. I get the idea.” She put her cigarette out. “You go outside in the hall and I’ll change. I can take my bath later.”

“I don’t want to interrupt you.”

“That’s all right.” She moved away from the door. “Go on outside. I’ll put on something else.”

Carl went out into the hall. Barbara closed the door after him. He waited, in the half-darkness. The hall was very cold and unfriendly. The room, for all its bareness, was at least more cheerful than the naked bulbs, the dark stained walls. The vague gloom.

He shivered and wandered around. After what seemed like an endless time he heard her stirring beyond the door. The door opened and she stepped out. Now she had put on brown slacks and a red checkered shirt. Her hair was held back by some kind of clasp.

“Let’s go!” she said. “Do you have a flashlight?”

“No.”

“We can use matches.”

They left the dormitory, crossing through the night darkness, along the paths, between the buildings, back to the office. They climbed the steps. Carl pushed the door open for Barbara and they entered.

Verne was sitting at the table, deep in thought. At the sound of the door opening he leaped up, blinking.

“I found her,” Carl said.

“You surprised me.” Verne sat down at the table again. “My mind was wandering. A long way off.”

“We’re going to help her unpack,” Carl said. “All her stuff is crated up. Her room looks terrible. We’ll have to help her make it livable again.”

“I can imagine,” Verne said.

* * * * *

Carl sat down beside Verne, motioning Barbara to join them. “This is the first time we’ve all three been together,” he said. “Let’s consider our situation and see what we’re up against.”

“Christ,” Verne murmured.

“For example, Verne and I will be living in the men’s dormitory, very close to the office.” He turned toward Barbara. “But you’ll be all the way over in the women’s dorm. We should work out some sort of way to get hold of each other in case something sudden should happen.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some yuks might come and—”

“They won’t give us any trouble. All they’re interested in is the property.”

Carl picked up the traffic notification paper. There was a directive attached to it. “What’s this?”

“The original order.” Verne took it from him.

“I’d like to read it. I never saw it.”

“I’ll read it aloud.” Verne adjusted his glasses. “I’ve been pondering it, off and on. ‘This is to inform Henry G. Osborne, the general manager of the Second Station of the American Metals Development Company, that to facilitate the transfer of Company Land and Property and all other Real Assets to the new owners, it is deemed advisable that three company employees remain on the premises of the Second Station during the transfer period, until such time as certified representatives of the new owners appear to take possession of their property. These three persons should be picked in such a way as to represent the Company and all it stands for and believes in, and it is important that they, as the last members of the Company, should adequately express those things for which the Company has stood in the past and for which it will continue to stand in the future, as long as it shall exist.’ ”

They were silent.

“That’s all,” Verne said, tossing the paper down.

“Osborne picked us at random. He opened the card file and pulled three cards out.”

“What a way to do it.”

“Can you suggest a better way?”

“Forget it,” Barbara said. “It’s all over with now. We’ve been chosen; we might as well make the best of it. Let’s go down and see about something to eat.”