omething tells me they're going to be gestating a little too long."

They put through the call, but Charlie wasn't answering. "Sorry," the
operator said. "Nobody's gotten through there for three days."

"Three days?" cried Tommy. "What's wrong? Is he dead?"

"Couldn't be. They burned out two more machines yesterday," said the
operator. "Killed the switchboard for twenty minutes."

"Get him on the wire," Tommy said. "That's orders."

"Yes, sir. But first they want you in Analysis."

Analysis was a shambles. Paper and tape piled knee-deep on the floor.
The machines clattered wildly, coughing out reams of paper to be gulped
up by other machines. In a corner office they found the Analysis man,
pale but jubilant.

"The Program," Tommy said. "How's it going?"

"You can count on the people staying happy for at least another five
months." Analysis hesitated an instant. "If they see some baby Grdznth
at the end of it all."

There was dead silence in the room. "Baby Grdznth," Tommy said finally.

"That's what I said. That's what the people are buying. That's what
they'd better get."

Tommy swallowed hard. "And if it happens to be six months?"

Analysis drew a finger across his throat.

Tommy and Pete looked at each other, and Tommy's hands were shaking. "I
think," he said, "we'd better find Charlie Karns right now."

* * * * *

Math Section was like a tomb. The machines were silent. In the office at
the end of the room they found an unshaven Charlie gulping a cup of
coffee with a very smug-looking Grdznth. The coffee pot was floating
gently about six feet above the desk. So were the Grdznth and Charlie.

"Charlie!" Tommy howled. "We've been trying to get you for hours! The
operator--"

"I know, I know." Charlie waved a hand disjointedly. "I told her to go
away. I told the rest of the crew to go away, too."

"Then you cracked the differential?"

Charlie tipped an imaginary hat toward the Grdznth. "Spike cracked it,"
he said. "Spike is a sort of Grdznth genius." He tossed the coffee cup
over his shoulder and it ricochetted in graceful slow motion against the
far wall. "Now why don't you go away, too?"

Tommy turned purple. "We've got five months," he said hoarsely. "Do you
hear me? If they aren't going to have their babies in five months, we're
dead men."

Charlie chuckled. "Five months, he says. We figured the babies to come
in about three months--right, Spike? Not that it'll