looked startled, and then
angry--timid and unimaginative were the last things he'd expected his
idea to be called. Then he became uneasy. Maybe this fellow was a
typical representative of his lord and master, the faceless abstraction
called the Public.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Misplaced emphasis. You shouldn't emphasize the event that could have
changed history; you should emphasize the changes that could have been
made. You're going to end this show you were talking about with a shot
of Columbus wading up to the beach with an English flag, aren't you?"

"Well, that's the logical ending."

"That's the logical beginning," the sandy-haired man contradicted. "And
after that, your guest historian comes on; how much time will he be
allowed?"

"Well, maybe three or four minutes. We can't cut the dramatization too
short--"

"And he'll have to explain, a couple of times, and in words of one
syllable, that what we have seen didn't really happen, because if he
doesn't, the next morning half the twelve-year-old kids in the country
will be rushing wild-eyed into school to slip the teacher the real
inside about the discovery of America. By the time he gets that done,
he'll be able to mumble a couple of generalities about vast and
incalculable effects, and then it'll be time to tell the public about
Widgets, the really safe cigarettes, all filter and absolutely free from
tobacco."

The waiter arrived at this point, and the sandy-haired man ordered
another rye highball. I decided to have another bourbon on the rocks,
and the TV impresario said, "Gin-and-tonic," absently, and went into a
reverie which lasted until the drinks arrived. Then he came awake again.

"I see what you mean," he said. "Most of the audience would wonder what
difference it would have made where Columbus would have gotten his
ships, as long as he got them and America got discovered. I can see it
would have made a hell of a big difference. But how could it be handled
any other way? How could you figure out just what the difference would
have been?"

"Well, you need a man who'd know the historical background, and you'd
need a man with a powerful creative imagination, who is used to using it
inside rigorously defined limits. Don't try to get them both in one; a
collaboration would really be better. Then you work from the known
situation in Europe and in America in 1492, and decide on the immediate
effects. And from that, you have to carry it along