THE COSMIC COMPUTER

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"Foxx Travis!" His father's voice was soft with wonder. "I saw him once,
when I was eight years old. I thought he'd died long ago. Why, he must
be over a hundred."

"A hundred and twelve. He's living on Luna; low gravity's all that keeps
him alive."

"And you talked to him?"

"Yes."

There'd been a girl in his third-year biophysics class; he'd found out
that she was a great-granddaughter of Force General Travis. It had taken
him until his senior midterm vacation to wangle an invitation to the
dome-house on Luna. After that, it had been easy. As soon as Foxx Travis
had learned that one of his great-granddaughter's guests was from
Poictesme, he had insisted on talking to him.