Well, he’d mention it to Katz the next time he came in contact with the professor. He began to come to his feet to get about unpacking. The identity screen on the door pinged, and he looked at it.

A stranger’s face was there, but was staring as though down the corridor, rather than looking directly ahead, so that Bert could see who it was.

Bert Alshuler grunted and went over and opened up. The other was still looking down the hall and frowning unhappily.

“Confound it, who was that?” he said, his voice highly testy. He was a somewhat pompous looking type, in his mid-fifties perhaps, about five and a half feet tall and too plump for his height. He had a very good tailor, a very good barber, and the briefcase he carried must have set him back a small fortune.

“Who was who?” Bert said.

“That man I just passed in the corridor.”

“How would I know?” Bert said reasonably. “And just who are you?”

“You’re Alshuler, aren’t you?”

“That’s right, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m a colleague of Professor Katz. You can call me Doctor Smith.”

“John, I’ll bet.” For some reason this newcomer irritated Bert Alshuler. Possibly it was a carry-over from his last visitor. He said, “Just a minute,” and went over to the phone screen on the small desk of his mini-apartment.

He sat down before it and said, “Professor Leonard Katz, please.”

A robot voice said, “The number is restricted. Who is calling, please?”

“Albert Alshuler.”

“Your name is listed. Thank you.”

Professor Katz’ face faded in, frowning.

Bert said, “You impressed me with all your hush-hush gobbledygook. Kay. A character has shown up here calling himself Doctor Smith. Do you want to identify him?”