ying saucers landing and taking off from it. Hell, maybe it's
going to be George Humphry's kind of world after all a couple of
hundred years from now."

* * * * *

Then a night or two later they'd gone out to a movie. She'd been lucky
to get Mrs. Mimms to sit with Georgie. After they got back Mrs. Mimms
had made some tea--_real_ tea she'd brought from her own apartment.
When she offered to tell their fortunes in the leaves, Julie began to
giggle ... until she saw Bill was taking it perfectly seriously. Maybe
it was the quiet way Mrs. Mimms had discussed their futures over the
brown leaves, as if she'd been there herself. Funny old duck.
Wonderful with Georgie, though; and the other girls swore by her. Bill
hadn't batted an eye when she predicted it would be a girl this time,
and perfectly healthy and all right.

Julie peeked into the bedroom where Georgie was sleeping and pulled
the blanket up under his chin. "According to Mrs. Mimms, my lad,
you'll be getting a baby sister soon," she whispered. Bill _had_
changed lately. Not so gloomy somehow, nicer. But _tea_ leaves, for
Heaven's sake, they couldn't have anything to do with....

She stopped trying to figure it out because the nausea returned. This
time it was bad and she had to run for the bathroom.

* * * * *

The crisp directive--Zonally disguised as a contemporary telegram--was
forwarded to Mrs. Mimms on a Monday night. Although it bore the
Resident Destinyworker's address, it had come of course directly from
the Chief's office for the code word DESTWORK headed the message.
Decoded, it read:

URGENT YOU CLOSE OUT PRESENT ASSIGNMENT IN DAY OR TWO.
CONDITION 16 IN 22ND CENTURY APPROACHING CRISIS. IMPORTANT
ALL AVAILABLE PERSONNEL BE CONCENTRATED. PICK-UP AT POINT OF
ENTRY ACCORDING TO PROCEDURE. BRIEFING TO COME FROM KEY
RESIDENTS. ALL VACATIONS AND LEAVES-OF-ABSENCE HEREWITH
CANCELLED.

Mrs. Mimms sighed. It was always this way she reflected. Central was
perpetually short of experienced help. The younger Destinyworkers,
fresh from the colleges, always wanted to traipse off into the future
where nothing practical ever got done. Oh, they argued, you could
always read about the past if you wanted to and, anyway, since Direct
Influence on Historic Continuum was strictly forbidden, what was the
good of wandering around in musty yesterdays? Mrs. Mimms however knew
better