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all times. The biosoftware we have distributed will give you a limited vocabulary in period Latin vernacular, plus a superficial knowledge of local customs and the city's layout. But it's best not to push the limits of that knowledge. Trust your guide.
    "Remember that we are visiting a real world, not a virtual reality. A wound from a Roman sword is a real wound, a disease contracted is a real disease. If you are careless, you could be hurt. Those of you interested in a more adventurous past experience are welcome to investigate our 'Intervener Specials': The Battle of Actium, The Siege of Masada, A Night with Messalina--information is available on the videolog in your room. If you want to see what would happen if you turned a machine gun on Brutus and the conspirators, we can arrange that--but not on this tour! We don't want to have too much fun, do we?"
    The tourists laughed.
    Next came a vid about Roman history, with information about Julius Caesar, Marcus Junius Brutus, Gaius Cassius Longinus and the other principals of the historical incident they were about to witness. Then the attendants checked the tourists' costumes and equipment. They were led through the doors to a dimly lit transfer room. The attendants had them assemble within the circle outlined by a finger thick cable spread out on the floor. The ends of the cable were plugged into a portable time travel unit built into what looked like a suitcase. The tour guide, his toga falling in folds on the floor, crouched over the keyboard of the unit and typed in some commands. He stood.
    "Remember to keep your hands and clothing inside the perimeter," he said. Gen and August nudged themselves closer to Vannice. The tour guide touched a key on the portable unit, and the room disappeared.
    They materialized outdoors, in the atrium of a private villa. It was overcast, and a fine mist filtered down through the skies to fall on their heavy woolen winter cloaks. Water drizzled from the roof tiles into the slate gutters of the paved courtyard. "Welcome to 44 B.C.E. Rome," the tour guide said. "This is a private home that will be unoccupied for the duration of our visit. Get in under the eaves while I pack up this equipment."
    They moved out of the rain. One of the Marilyns was breathlessly bouncing in front of Vannice, who seemed completely impervious to her simulated charms. She had the genetically altered body, and the software had given her the right ditzy demeanor, but apparently pure sex on the hoof was not his style. A second candidate, this one a gamin Gen could not identify as any specific historical model, shyly asked him for a light, which he gave her with relatively little reaction. Strike two. The tour guide, having put aside the portable unit, hustled over and asked her to put out the cigarette before they left the building.
    As they entered the streets the rain began to let up. The villa was in a wealthy quarter of the city; the water coursing through the gutter in the middle of the paved street had washed the air fresh and clean. A matron, her slave holding a shawl above her head to ward off the mist, gave them a glance and passed on. In the distance, the clouds were breaking up and a shaft of sunlight shot down like an image from Michelangelo’s heaven.
    August made sure they were close to Vannice. "Beastly weather!" he said to Genevieve. "You'd think that with time travel they could at least find us a pleasant morning to arrive. It's pure incompetence."
    "They must have their reasons, Daddy."
    The opportunity to explain something, apparently, was the right bait. "Excuse me, sir," Vannice interrupted. "They can't take us to another time. Not if we're here to see Caesar assassinated, since it happened on this particular rainy day."
    August turned to him, squinting. "Of course, of course, young man. How foolish of me."
    Genevieve smiled at Vannice. "This is our first tour. Have you traveled in time before?"
    "I guess you might say I'm an expert on time