"It would be impossible because there were no such manufacturers then. It would mean that you were either promptly killed by a C.D. agent who recognized the anachronistic attempt, or you had changed your mind."
"But if I can choose any period, it means that I can alter history at will—which presumes that the present can also be changed."
"That is what the Komitet believes, and that is why the C.D. is so ruthless and brutal with unlicensed time travellers. The real answer is that in the final analysis your decision to choose a certain time period is already made, and the things you will do are already determined. Free will is an illusion; it is synonymous with incomplete perception."
"Then send me into the 20th century. As an engineer I would be able to make some sort of living there."
"Dangerous. Don't practice your profession. Study some field which is completely alien to you so that should you come across a C.D. agent he would not recognize the work of a 25th century man."
"You mean like an artist or a writer?"
"Why not?"
Donovan laughed. "I've never held a paint brush or written more than a one-page letter, but why not? Unloose the cyclic band, Blascomb; set me loose in the 20th century, and give my regards to the C.D.!"
In the dimly lighted garret above the tavern, Donovan stood before his easel. His face was no longer lined, for the past twenty-five years had made him a much younger man. He had taken Blascomb's advice and had studied a field completely alien to him. In his own time, the 25th century, his paintings would have been considered laughably amateurish, but for 1926 they were infinitely superior to anything produced by 20th century artists.