ope it's not too late for you to show
me an apartment tonight. It needn't be large. Two or three rooms will
do nicely. However, I have one stipulation."

"We aim to please at Greenlawn, Ma'am--within reason--you understand."

"I understand," replied the Destinyworker. "It is merely that the
apartment should, as far as possible, be located in the central part
of the building and on a middle floor--not too high or too low."

"No problem there," said the super, consulting a board from which hung
a number of keys. "Most of 'em want just the opposite--corner
apartments, views, top floor, Southern exposure. Here's one. Partly
furnished. Young couple left for Europe. They want to sublet for the
rest of the lease."

"I hope the rent is reasonable."

It was. Mrs. Mimms received the news with apparent relief. Due to the
high cost of Time Translation and maintenance of workers in other
Zones, Destinyworkers, Inc., a non-profit organization, had to keep
its overhead at a minimum.

"This will do very nicely," Mrs. Mimms announced after inspecting the
apartment. "I should like to move in at once." The superintendent then
brought up his new tenant's suitcases, commented upon their weight,
obtained Mrs. Mimms' signature on the preliminary lease and left.

Even for younger Destinyworkers, time travel at best was an exhausting
business. The bags _had_ been heavy, and Zonal Speech Compliance was
always a strain at the outset of an assignment. Mrs. Mimms needed
refreshment. Finding a battered pot and a broken cup abandoned by the
former tenants, she heated water on the range and made herself some
hot tea. Sipping it slowly Mrs. Mimms felt the strength returning to
her tired system.

Having eaten an early dinner in the future Mrs. Mimms was not hungry.
The tea would be sufficient until tomorrow. She washed the cup
carefully, put away the pot and then unlocked one of her black
suitcases. From it she extracted a small white card on which there was
some printing and a phone number at the bottom. Mrs. Mimms checked the
phone number with the telephone in her new apartment; they were the
same. Research was almost _never_ wrong. Mrs. Mimms then took the card
down to the main floor and attached it to a bulletin board with four
thumbtacks. The message read:

_Mrs. Althea Mimms_
Professional Companion & Babysitter
Rates Reasonable

Back in her apartment, the time traveler opened the other suitcase. It
contained a batch o