s as she
cleared the screen. She reached immediately for the telephone and
dialed a number. A couple of seconds later the Resident
Destinyworker's voice said, "Hello?"

"George, this is Althea. I'm sorry to be calling so late but I have a
Condition Twelve case."

George Kahn's voice was instantly alert. "Male?"

"Yes, and a good Third Intensity. Here are the coordinates if you want
to rerun it yourself." Mrs. Mimms read some figures off the dials.
"I'm authorized a week's night-teleportation but I only have the
standard equipment of course. You have the Viele apparatus over there,
haven't you?"

"Yes, but frankly, Althea, even with the Viele we're limited in what
we can do. I don't have to tell you that's getting pretty close to
Direct Influence. I tampered with it myself a couple of years ago and
got a stiff reprimand from Central."

"But, George, this is a _Twelve_. A serious one. The files at Central
are full of Anti-Population Projectographs. All that might-have-been
talent that's lost in every Time Zone! Think what might have happened
if we hadn't interfered in the Voltaire case! Why we might even have
lost Darwin himself if Mr. Wentworth hadn't insisted on three nights
of the Viele for Darwin's parents."

"Well, yes," admitted the Resident Destinyworker. "All right, Althea,
I'll give him a week's dream kinesis if you insist but just remember
the Sophistication Curve in the Twentieth. You'll probably have to
supplement it with some work of your own."

"Thank you George, I will."

"And Althea--"

"Yes?"

"You sound tired. Get a good night's rest. The Mid-Twentieth's a tough
Zone and the Chief would not want one of his best CPO's taking on more
than she can handle. Personally, I think you ought to ask him for a
nice soft assignment in the Future Division next trip."

Mrs. Mimms smiled. "I'll leave the glamor to the youngsters, George,
they're much better at it. Besides," she added, "there isn't any tea
there."

Again, Mrs. Mimms would have liked a cup, but she was much too tired
to prepare it.

* * * * *

Three weeks after Mrs. Mimms' arrival at the Greenlawn Apartments, the
superintendent was repairing a leaky faucet on the top floor. The
housewife watched him as he gave the nut a final twist with his wrench
and stood up.

"Thanks for coming up and looking at it so soon, Mr. Seely," she said.
"How are Mrs. Seely and the children?"

"Good Mrs. Dorne, real good, t