"Young man," said Senator Givens of Oklahoma, leaning back in his tailored chair, "I like your style, and this is certainly an exciting concept. If we can bring this off, why, it will be one for the history books. Except, I sort of wonder if there will be any history books."
"I don't know about that, Senator, but anyhow, you'll have the satisfaction of doing something really swell. And besides, you and your loved ones will get off the Earth before it explodes."
"Yes, there is that, although of course I would never do anything for personal reasons, because I am first, last and foremost a servant of the people. And I know my distinguished colleagues in both Houses will see it in that light, regardless of affiliation. This has to be a bipartisan effort, in fact a multiglobal effort. Have you talked to the Speaker?"
''I'm supposed to see him Monday morning, and some other congressmen."
"Good, good. Now I want you to meet three or four other people in the Senate this afternoon, and then maybe next week sometime we could have an informal joint meeting. It's important to get these things lined up well in advance. Tell me, in your opinion, what sort of a political organization are we going to be able to put together on this new planet?"
"I don't know anything about that, Senator. I guess it could be pretty much whatever you want."
"Good, good. That's just what I was thinking."
Linda Lavalle, dressed to the nines, entered the Nether-land Hotel lobby, which was about the size of a freight elevator. It didn't even have a real airlock, just a weather door. She advanced to the desk. "Mr. Stone, please. Tell him Ms. Lavalle is here."
The deskperson, a human being, spoke into his/her microphone, listened. "He'll be right down, Ms. Lavalle."
"Thank you."
"He is a wonderful person, isn't he?"
Lavalle raised her eyebrows. "Yes, I guess so." She turned and looked at the lobby: one polyethylene plant, a sofa, two armchairs. She crossed to one of the chairs, took a closer look at the variegated blotches on the upholstery, and decided to stand.
After a moment the elevator door opened and Stone came out, wearing the same suit. "Hi there," she said.
"Hello. Glad you could come. Listen, do you want to have a drink in the bar next door?"
"No, let's go. I've got a taxi waiting. "
As the armored cab pulled out into traffic, she turned to Stone and crossed her arms. "Why are you staying in that trash can?" she asked. "The cabbie couldn't even find it, that's why I'm late."
"It's cheap," he said.
"Well, it must be, but if you're masterminding an international project-"
"Yeah, but I haven't got any money, until my line of credit comes through. Are you mad?"
"No, I'm not, but I'm confused. Do you like Greek food?"
"I never had any."
"Great."
There was a jam at Watts and Sixth; up ahead they could see dark figures silhouetted against a tower of flame. "What's the matter now?" Lavalle asked.
"Looks like they torch another sweeper, " said the cabbie's voice.
"Can you get around by Hudson? We're in a hurry. "
"Ma'am, this cab don't fly."
"What's a sweeper?" Stone asked.
"It scoops up the druggies that pass out in the middle of the street. Sometimes people throw a bottle of Flame-O at them.''
"What for?"
"To tie up traffic, I suppose."
The cab inched into the far lane, and in a few minutes they were out of the compression. They rode in silence through the flaring streets until the cab pulled up at the restaurant. Stone reached for his wallet, but she said, "No, that's all right," and put her card through the slot.
"Listen, I can pay for a cab," Stone said as they crossed the littered sidewalk.
"You can pay for the next one. Let go of my arm."
"You are mad at me," he said.
"No, I'm not, but I can get through a door without help. Hello, Spyros."
The maitre d' bowed and smiled. "Always a pleasure, Ms. Lavalle. Will you come this way?"
He led them to a table covered with a snowy white cloth, plates, silverware, flowers, and candles. "Now I think I will have that drink," she said. A smiling waiter appeared. "Gibson for me, Jimmy."
"And you, sir?"
''I'll have a rye highball."
"Yes, sir." The waiter did not quite make a face. He went away.
Lavalle took a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. When she put one in her lips, Stone was leaning across with a lighter. She stared at him, but allowed him to light the cigarette. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Say, how come all the cigarette packs have a skull and crossbones on them?"
"They're bad for you. Give you lung cancer and emphysema."
"I wish you hadn't of told me that." Stone had a pack of Camels Heavies half out of his pocket; he looked at it and put it back. "Now I've got to quit," he said mournfully.
"Why right now?"
"Because if I died before the project gets finished, I'd be letting the aliens down." He opened the menu and looked at it. "What is all this stuff?"
"It's all good, but I recommend the moussaka."
"What's moussaka?"
"Eggplant, cultured lamb, and cheese."
"You're kidding. I'll have a steak."
The waiter brought the drinks and took their orders. "I want some kampa with the moussaka, Jimmy. What about you, Ed?"
"What's kampa?"
"It's a Greek wine."
"Oh. I guess I'll have a glass of beer." The waiter went away again.
"Okay," Lavalle said, "what is this famous project anyway, and who are the aliens?"
"The aliens are the ones that kidnapped me and brought me here from nineteen thirty-one. They want me to build a box big enough to put the whole human race in it."
"What for?"
"I'm not sure."
"You're crazy. "
"I know."
Lavalle stubbed her cigarette out nervously and took another one out of the pack. "Don't do that," she said when he offered his lighter. She lit the cigarette herself, took one puff and put it in the ashtray. "Listen, what I want to know is, why do I feel this way about you?"
He looked unhappy. "Because I touched you with my ring when we shook hands."
"What's the ring got to do with it?"
"The aliens put something in it that makes people like me and believe in me."
"They did, huh? Let me see this ring."
He held out his hand and she took it. The ring seemed to be made of some dull metal that was not silver or platinum; there was a place for a gemstone in the middle, but it was empty.
"I think they copied it out of an ad in a magazine," he said. "They didn't get it quite right. I mean, they're aliens. Listen, I think it'll wear off eventually. "
"It will?"
"Yeah, and then if you still like me, it'll be because, you know, you like me."
"Well, that's a relief. "
The food came. The waiter poured the wine and beer.
"Listen," Stone said, "I'm sorry about this, but I had to talk to somebody. I can't believe some of the things I've found out since I came back. All these swell inventions, but you've got poison gas in the air, these African countries are bombing each other, and you're having another depression-"
"Growth adjustment."
"Is that what they call it now?"
"Uh-huh. Before that it was 'recession,' and before that 'depression,' and before that it was 'panic.' Whenever we don't like something, we change the name so we can like it better."
"Well, it's still the same thing, right? And millions of people are starving- This isn't how I thought it would be."
"We don't say 'starving,' we say 'nutritionally challenged.' How did you think it would be?"
"I don't know, I thought science would solve everything.''
"So did a lot of people. How's your steak?"
"Okay."
"Try a bite of this."
He accepted it, chewed. "Say! You said it was good, but I didn't believe you."
"Trust me."
"Okay, I will." He smiled, and she saw the sudden glint of a gold tooth. "Listen, I said I was sorry, but that wasn't true. If I hadn't touched you with the ring, would you of gone out with me?"
She looked at him for a moment before replying. "Probably not."
"Well, I'm glad you did."
"So am I, but let's not get squishy about it."
"Okay. So. What do you do, at the IDA?"
"I review project analyses and make recommendations."
"I don't know what that means. What does the IDA do?"
"It loans money to Third World nations and gets them deeper in debt."
"What's the Third World? I thought we only had one."
"Pre-developed countries, mostly in Africa and South and Central America."
"Is that like poor?"
She smiled. "Yes.''
"Okay. So you loan them money and get them in debt. Is that a bad thing?"
"Usually."
"So why do you do it?"
"It's a job. It pays well, and once in a while I get a chance to approve something that might do some good. The world is such a mess that nothing really works."
"Well, what's the problem, if there's all this money to throw around? Do you know what they're giving me? A million four. That's the way he said it. I just walked in off the street."
"You don't think that's fair?"
"No."
"Going to give the money back?"
"No."
"Okay, then don't complain. What was it like, in the thirties?"
He chewed and swallowed. "Hard times. Lots of people out of work, factories closing down. Breadlines, soup kitchens. But listen, I think it's worse now. I saw people sleeping in cardboard boxes last night. I mean, not just regular cardboard boxes, but ones that said 'PortaHouse' on them. A guy who asked me for a handout, he had bums all over his face."
He looked at his beer and put it down. "Something I never could figure out, you've got all these factories, if you opened them up people could have jobs and buy the stuff the factories make. It just goes around and around. It's like, 'If we had some ham we could make ham and eggs, if we had some eggs.' "
She laughed. "I like that."
"You do, huh? Your name, Lavalle, is that French?"
"It is, but I'm not. I was married before."
"It didn't work out?"
"No."
"Got a sweetheart?"
"It's none of your business, but yes."
He looked at her. "Do you step out with other guys anyway?"
"Not usually." She put down her fork. "Listen, I'm having a good time, and I like you, but you scare me. Do you really believe all this stuff about aliens, and putting people in a box?"
"Sure."
"And you're going to do it?"
"Oh, yeah. There's no way to stop me."
"I think that's frightening."
"Well, it's like being on a roller coaster. Once you start down, you have to go all the way."
"You sound so calm about it. How can you be so calm?"
"I haven't got any choice. You know how it is when you love somebody so much, or maybe your family, or your country, you'd do anything for them? I mean, you want them to be happy and you want them to win, so you do whatever you can, right, and as long as you're doing that, you can be calm. Well, that's how I am about the aliens. I love them, and they trust me, and I know I won't let them down, so I'm calm."
"Do you think maybe they made you feel that way?"
"Oh, I know they did. The first time I saw them, I wanted to run. I think they put something in my brain. I can feel it in there."
"In your brain. Well, doesn't that make a difference?"
"No. Didn't you ever love somebody, and you knew you probably shouldn't, but you just couldn't help it?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's the same thing. I have to do whatever they want me to, and besides, maybe it's all true about the Earth being destroyed."
"You don't think it is?"
"I'm a little worried about it, but there isn't much I can do about that. "
After a moment she asked, "What do they look like?"
"They're about the size of a rat. They sit in a hollow space in the head of a robot, and the robot carries them around. They look-I don't know. Like a yellow octopus, except they have joints in their arms. Or legs, it's hard to tell. They have suckers on their hands and feet. Their faces are all spiny, except for the forehead. That's what they talk with. They make these symbols on their foreheads, kind of like Chinese."
She shuddered. "And you love them?"
"Well, probably we look awful to them too."
She said, "You're crazy."
"I know I am. Don't you think I know that? Either I made the whole thing up in my head, or else they drove me crazy, so I'm crazy either way."
The waiter reappeared. "All through?" he said.
"Yes. We'll have baklava for dessert, Jimmy, and Greek coffee."
"What's baklava?" Stone asked.
"Trust me."
He ate the baklava with an expression of delight and disbelief. "Were you married before?" she asked.
"Yeah, but after I lost my job she took the kids and went back to her mother's in Teaneck."
"How many kids?"
"Two. Boy and a girl."
"Do you ever wonder what happened to them?"
"They're dead now, I guess, or they're old people. I thought about that. What could I say to them, 'Hello, I'm your father'? They wouldn't believe me, and if they did, so what?"
After a moment she asked, "Did you love your wife?"
"I guess so, at first. What about you?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time, but he was a sleaze."
"You kept his name, though."
"Well, it was better than Izquierdos." She looked around, and the waiter appeared. "We'd like the check, Jimmy."
Stone said, "You don't have to go right away, do you?"
"Afraid so."
"I thought you might like to take in a show or something."
"Some other time."
The waiter deposited the check on a tray. Stone looked at it and his eyes bulged.
"We'll split this, of course," Lavalle said. "Give it to me, I'll use my card and you can give me your half."
"Don't you think that's a little steep?"
"Dinner for two, with drinks and wine, seven hundred fifty? No. You want real food, you have to pay for it."
"I can't get used to that. Where I come from, nobody ever said 'real food.' That was all we had. And there was enough of it to go around, except they poured kerosene on it to keep the price up." He counted out the bills glumly. "Listen, I don't suppose you could lend me cab fare? I'll pay you back next week."
"Never mind, I'll drop you on the way home."
"Where's home? You live by yourself?"
"Never mind, and no."
They watched the street scene on the way across town: people standing around fires in trash cans, food vendors with carts, lonely guitar-players. Confetti came drifting out of the sky, turning black as it fluttered. The cab drew up in front of the hotel.
"I had a swell time," he said.
"I did too."
"I suppose you've got to go home tonight?"
"Yes."
"Can I call you when I get back in town?"
"I don't know if that's such a good idea."
"I'll call you, anyway."
"Yes, I guess you will."