on the bar as a deposit for the fourth pitcher of Dark. The bartender regarded Casimir with mild alarm, and Casimir considered, for a moment, carrying a sword all the time, a la Fred Fine. But as he observed to us, why carry a sword when you own a mass driver?
'Casimir?'
'Mmmmm. Huh?'
'You asleep?'
'No.'
'You want to talk?'
'Okay.'
'Thanks for letting me sleep here.'
'No problem. Anytime.'
'Does this bother you?'
'You sleeping here? Nah.'
'You seemed kind of bothered about something.'
'No. It's really fine, Sarah. I don't care.'
'If it'd make you feel better, I can go back and sleep in my room. I just didn't feel like a half-hour elevator hassle, and my wing is likely to be noisy.'
'I know. All that barf on the floors, rowdy people, sticky beer crud all over the place. I don't blame you. It's perfectly reasonable to stay at someone's place at a time like this.'
'I get the impression you have something you're not saying. Do you want to talk about it?'
The pile of sheets and blankets that was Casimir moved around, and he leaned up on one elbow and peered down at her. The light shining in from the opposite tower made his wide eyes just barely visible. She knew something was wrong with him, but she also knew better than to try to imagine what was going on inside Casimir Radon's mind.
'Why should I have something on my mind?'
'Well, I don't see anything unusual about my staying here, but a lot of people would, and you seemed uptight.'
'Oh, you're talking about sex? Oh, no. No problem.' His voice was tense and hurried.
'So what's bothering you?'
For a while there was just ragged breathing from atop the bed, and then he spoke again. 'You're going to think this is stupid, because I know you're a Women's Libber, but it really bothers me that you're on the floor in a sleeping bag while I'm up here in a bed. That bothers me.'
Sarah laughed. 'Don't worry, Casimir. I'm not going to beat you up for it.'
'Good. Let's trade places, then.'
'If you insist.' Within a few seconds they had traded places and Sarah was up in a warm bed that smelled of mothballs and mildew. They lay there for an hour.
'Sarah?'
'Huh?'
'I want to talk to you.'
'What?'
'I lied. I want to sleep with you so bad it's killing me. Oh, Jeez. I love you. A lot.'
'Oh, damn. I knew it. I was afraid of this. I'm sorry.'
'No, don't be. My fault. I'm really, really sorry.'
'Should I leave? Do you want me out?'
'No. I want you to sleep with me,' he said, as though this answer was obvious.
'How long have you been thinking about me this way?'
'Since we met the first time.'
'Really? Casimir! Why? We didn't even know each other!'
'What does that have to do with it?' He sounded genuinely mystified.
'I think we've got a basic difference in the way we think about sex, Casimir.' She had forgotten how they were when it came to this sort of thing.
'What does that mean? Did you ever think about me that way?'
'Not really.'
Casimir sucked in his breath and flopped back down.
'Now, look, don't take it that way. Casimir, I hardly know you. We've only had one or two good conversations. Look, Casimir, I only think about sex every one or two days— it's not a big topic with me right now.'
'Jeez. Are you okay? Did you have a bad experience?' 'Don't put me on the defensive. Casimir, our friendship has been just fine as it is. Why should I fantasize about what a friendship might turn into, when the friendship is fine as is? You've got to live in the real world, Casimir.'
'What's wrong with me?'
The poor guy just did not understand at all. There was no way to help him; Sarah went ahead and spoke her lines.
'Nothing's wrong with you. You're fine.'
'Then what is the problem?'
'Look. I sleep with people because there's nothing wrong with them. I don't fantasize about relationships that will never exist. We're fine as we are. Sex would just mess it up. We have a good friendship, Casimir. Don't screw it up by thinking unrealistically.'
They sat in the dark for a while. Casimir was being open-minded, which was
good, but still had trouble catching on. 'It's none of my business, but just
out of curiosity, do you like sex?'
'Definitely. It's a blast with the right person.'
'I'm just not the right person, huh?'
'I've already answered that six times.' She considered telling him about herself and Dex Fresser in high school. In ways— especially in appearance— Casimir was similar to Dex. The thing with Dex was a perfect example of what happened when a man got completely divorced from reality. But Sarah didn't want the Dex story to get around, and she supposed that Casimir would be horrified by this high school saga of sex and drugs.
'I think I'll do my laundry now, since I'm up,' she said.
'I'll walk you home.'
A few minutes later they emerged into a hall as bright as the interior of a small sun. The dregs of a party in the Social Lounge examined them as they awaited an elevator, and Sarah was bothered by what they were assuming. Maybe it would boost Casimir's rep among his neighbors.
An elevator opened and fifty gallons of water poured into the lobby. Someone had filled a garbage can with water, tilted it up on one corner just inside the elevator, held it in place as the doors closed, and pulled his hand out at the last minute so that it leaned against the inside of the doors. Not greatly surprised, Sarah and Casimir stepped back to let the water swirl around their feet, then threw the garbage can into the lobby and boarded the elevator.
'That's the nice thing about this time of day,' said Casimir. 'Easy to get elevators.'
As they made their way toward the Castle in the Air, they spoke mostly of Casimir's mass driver. With the new funding and with the assistance of Virgil, it was moving along quite well. Casimir repeatedly acknowledged his debt to Ephraim for having done the talking.
They took an E Tower elevator up to the Castle in the Air. A nine-leaved marijuana frond was scotch-taped over the number 13 on the elevator panel so that it would light up symbolically when that floor was passed. In the corridors of the Castle the Terrorists were still running wild and hurling their custom Big Wheel Frisbees with great violence.
Casimir had never seen Sarah's room. He stood shyly outside as she walked into the darkness. 'The light?' he said. She switched on her table lamp.
'Oh.' He entered uncertainly, swiveling his bottle-bottom glasses toward the wall. Conscious of being in an
