"When now? Where?" Beau tossed impatiently to Sid over his shoulder.
"The forty-fourth year before our Lord's birth!" Sid answered instantly. "Rome!"
Beau's fingers danced over the dials like a musician's, or a safe-cracker's. The green glow flared and faded flickeringly.
"There's a storm in that vector of the Void."
"Circle it," Sid ordered.
"There are dark mists every way."
"Then pick the likeliest dark path!"
I called through the dark, "Fair is foul, and foul is fair, eh, Siddy?"
"Aye, chick," he answered me. "'Tis all the rule we have!"
—FRITZ LEIBER