“Gooks?”

He looked at her. “Listen, when they’re trying to kill you, you don’t have polite names for them. They’re Gook’s, or Krauts, or Huns, or some such.”

She nodded. “I see.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll have to hustle along too.” She looked into his face frankly. “Rather short notice, but I think I like you, Bert Alshuler. What was that Killer bit when he introduced us? Are you mad for the ladies or something?”

He stood at the same time she did and walked along beside her to the door. “No,” he said wryly. “Kind of a old nickname back in the army. I’m not very smart with the ladies. I… I guess I got a late start. They hauled me into the military before I was out of short pants practically. At the door he said, I suppose I ought to go on back to my mini-apartment and get around to unpacking. Things have been so hectic these past couple of days that I’m still living out of my suitcases.”

“Which way are you going?”

“I’m over in the Parthenon Building.”

“Well, so am I. I understand that the juniors and seniors call our quarters the dungeons. They’re not as bad as all that, though.”

“Sort of cramped. The new buildings have more room, now they’ve got the housing shortage licked. What’s the population of this university city now?” He fell in step beside her, somewhat surprised that he didn’t have to slow his pace to accommodate to her hers. She was a brisk little thing.

“Something like three hundred thousand,” she said. “The use of TV and the computers came just in time. What in the name of heavens would they have done with this educational revolution if they had to teach in the old manner?”