Evolution

Anne Lister’s face popped magically into being across the desk from her husband’s. He did not notice, being engrossed in pawing through a drawer, trying to find something, obviously unsuccessfully.

She watched him silently for a few moments, then said softly, “Other side, middle drawer.”

Startled, he straightened so quickly that he overbalanced and nearly fell backwards. “Heavens, woman! I thought I told you not to do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

She grinned. “It’s one of the few perks to being married to a famous man. I get to see the human side of him from time to time.”

“Famous!”

“Being Commissioner of Crisium has made your name a household word on two planets. That’s fame enough for most.”

“Infamy is more like it. Don’t think for a moment that I’m not aware that they hang me in effigy twenty times a day down on Earth.”

She see-sawed a hand. “Fame… infamy, two sides of the same coin.”

“Maybe so, but it’s a coin that tarnishes easily,” he grumbled.

She pretended to pout. “Since you’re in such a good mood, I think I’ll just save my news for later.”

“OK, OK… with head properly bowed in abject humility, I stand corrected. What, lovely wife, is it that you wished to tell me?”

She brightened immediately. “Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

Alan shuddered. “Not that again. Somehow, the bad news always seems to outweigh the good.”

Her image grinned at him. “Maybe not this time,” she teased.

Curiosity piqued, he raised one eyebrow. “Really, now? Well, let’s dispense with the bad news first, rather than poison the good news.”

“Trevor York has singled you out for his attentions. He wants an exclusive interview.”

“Trevor who?”

“You have a right to know….” she intoned, managing to catch a small hint of the man’s self-important air.

Alan frowned. “Wait a minute.

He… wasn’t he…” He snapped his fingers. “Got it! He was the guy down on Earth who ran a thing saying that I was a—”

“Shrewd political manipulator, who cold-bloodedly, and with malice aforethought, did single-handedly cause the collapse and ruin of the economy of the entire United States, along with Canada, Mexico, and by implication, the entire world. Yup, that’s him.”

“All without ever bothering to talk to me.”

“Well, the Door was closed at the time. Because of you. Something that he was quick to remind everyone. He claimed that he would have talked to you if he could.”

“Huh! Radio waves still work. He could have called.”

His wife clucked and wagged a finger. “Naughty, naughty. Mustn’t wreck the nice man’s image as the defender of the downtrodden.”

Alan spat a carefully chosen Anglo-Saxon monosyllable.

“Shall I tell him that your schedule is full?”

Lister pursed his lips and thought. “It’s tempting. No, let me face this guy down. Tell you what. We’ll trip him at his own game. While I’m talking to him, let’s make our own recording of the interview. It might prove interesting to compare his edited version with ours.”

“I take it that you want our recording made on the sly?”

Alan bit his lip and looked thoughtful. “I may tell him about it, or I may not. It all depends on his attitude. That other piece was rather uncalled for.”

She grinned maliciously at him. “The hard copy report on utility installation in the new level is in the middle drawer on your left, not the right.”

Confused by the non sequitur, Alan involuntarily glanced down at the drawer in question. His head popped back up. “Hey!” he yelped. “Waitaminnit! You said you had some good news—”

He broke off when he found that her image had dwindled to the size of his palm. Like the Cheshire Cat, all that remained was her smile.

“Anne?” he began.

“I’m pregnant,” she said. And her smile winked out of existence, leaving him gaping at empty air.

The worse things got, the better, as far as Conner’s Corner was concerned. A small bar in Detroit, it had prospered as out of work people began to congregate there to drown their sorrows in a mug of beer.

Hank and Carol Willis arrived early, the better to stake out their traditional booth near the end of the bar. They smiled and nodded at the bartender as they passed, slipping between stools and tables already occupied by people they did not know.

Carol frowned as she looked around. “Jeez, I’m not so sure but what this isn’t too much of a good thing. I mean, look at all these people.”

Hank shrugged philosophically. “Sooner or later we’ll meet a few of them. Then they won’t seem like strangers any more.”

“Ausländers,” Carol muttered under her breath.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” her husband teased.

She started to deny it, then relented. “Yeah, I guess I am. This used to be our personal bar, if you know what I mean. Now it’s popular, for God’s sake! What happened to privacy?”

The bartender arrived. “And what can I get for you?”

“Table service, yet! What happened to just yelling for what I wanted?” Carol groused.