coffee.
Luke nodded at the trilobite. “Burning should take care of it. If the temperatures are high enough, anyway. If it doesn’t, well — don’t think about that. Hey, what does it matter, anyway? Green’s going to blow up the world tomorrow. You heard he gave the Russians a deadline? Tomorrow, noon. Eastern Standard Time. What does it matter that the trilobites are going to conquer the world if none of us are alive to worry about it?”
Ron thought about that. “Can’t say I know. I don’t suppose it does make a whole lot of difference.”
Luke lifted his coffee cup from the desk, saw that it was empty, and crumpled it. Threw it into the trash can. “Damned if I know. Here we are at the end of the world and I’m flying off tonight to testify in front of a bunch of half-wit congressmen. And the worst of it is that it’s beginning to look like they’re right. What in the hell kind of life is this, Ron, huh? Tell me that — what in the hell kind of life is this?”
Ron shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you. If you don’t know, I sure don’t. — What are you doing flying out tonight for, anyway? Have they got you testifying on Saturdays, now? Or are you going to spend the night in the air and still try to testify tomorrow?”
“No, it hasn’t come to that. Not yet. Long as I’m going north I figured I’d visit a few friends who live in New York City. I’ll take the train down to Washington Monday morning. It only takes a couple of hours when it’s running right.”
Ron didn’t think it was especially wise for anybody to be going to a place like New York under the current circumstances. But Luke was a grown man, and where he went was his own business. He certainly knew what was going on. And there were those who’d tell you that New York wasn’t that dangerous a place, not if you knew your way around in it. No one would ever have been able to convince Ron Hawkins of that, but that didn’t stop them from trying on occasion.
Ron nodded in the direction of the test tube where the trilobite was still trying to work its way free. “What’re you going to do with that thing? You want me to haul it out to the incinerator and burn it?”
Luke blanched. “No. Thanks — really, thanks — but there’s no way I’m going to let this thing out of my sight. Not until it’s nothing but dust. Besides, your furnace isn’t hot enough to make me comfortable about this thing. We’ve got a little oven around here someplace that can cook at a few thousand degrees — and if that isn’t hot enough then we’re all screwed, and it doesn’t matter. Hell.” He coughed. “Why am I talking this way? I’m going to talk to Congress Monday; I’ve got to sound responsible at least.”
Ron shrugged, and reached over to empty the wastebasket. “I don’t know. You got to get it off your chest someplace. Better here than there.”
“Maybe so. Maybe so.” Luke stole a glance at his watch. “Damn. I’ve got to get a move on. My flight is sooner than I’d like it to be, and there’s still too much for me to do here before I can leave.” He stood up, brushed his hands against themselves. Picked up the test tube and started toward the door. “I can get you to close up in here, can’t I? Don’t bother to lock the door — I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Sure. No problem.” Ron felt a little confused and off balance — even when he was busy Luke didn’t tend to make a habit of getting up and running off in the middle of a conversation — but sometimes, he thought, it was his job to feel ill at ease.
“Thanks. I’ll let you know how it works out before I take off. I owe you that.”
Ron nodded. He didn’t feel especially that the man owed him anything, but it didn’t seem sensible to argue. He reached under Luke’s desk to empty the trash, and when he looked up again Luke was gone, left so quietly that he hadn’t even made a sound.
The next laboratory was Phil Johnson’s right down the
Luke nodded at the trilobite. “Burning should take care of it. If the temperatures are high enough, anyway. If it doesn’t, well — don’t think about that. Hey, what does it matter, anyway? Green’s going to blow up the world tomorrow. You heard he gave the Russians a deadline? Tomorrow, noon. Eastern Standard Time. What does it matter that the trilobites are going to conquer the world if none of us are alive to worry about it?”
Ron thought about that. “Can’t say I know. I don’t suppose it does make a whole lot of difference.”
Luke lifted his coffee cup from the desk, saw that it was empty, and crumpled it. Threw it into the trash can. “Damned if I know. Here we are at the end of the world and I’m flying off tonight to testify in front of a bunch of half-wit congressmen. And the worst of it is that it’s beginning to look like they’re right. What in the hell kind of life is this, Ron, huh? Tell me that — what in the hell kind of life is this?”
Ron shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you. If you don’t know, I sure don’t. — What are you doing flying out tonight for, anyway? Have they got you testifying on Saturdays, now? Or are you going to spend the night in the air and still try to testify tomorrow?”
“No, it hasn’t come to that. Not yet. Long as I’m going north I figured I’d visit a few friends who live in New York City. I’ll take the train down to Washington Monday morning. It only takes a couple of hours when it’s running right.”
Ron didn’t think it was especially wise for anybody to be going to a place like New York under the current circumstances. But Luke was a grown man, and where he went was his own business. He certainly knew what was going on. And there were those who’d tell you that New York wasn’t that dangerous a place, not if you knew your way around in it. No one would ever have been able to convince Ron Hawkins of that, but that didn’t stop them from trying on occasion.
Ron nodded in the direction of the test tube where the trilobite was still trying to work its way free. “What’re you going to do with that thing? You want me to haul it out to the incinerator and burn it?”
Luke blanched. “No. Thanks — really, thanks — but there’s no way I’m going to let this thing out of my sight. Not until it’s nothing but dust. Besides, your furnace isn’t hot enough to make me comfortable about this thing. We’ve got a little oven around here someplace that can cook at a few thousand degrees — and if that isn’t hot enough then we’re all screwed, and it doesn’t matter. Hell.” He coughed. “Why am I talking this way? I’m going to talk to Congress Monday; I’ve got to sound responsible at least.”
Ron shrugged, and reached over to empty the wastebasket. “I don’t know. You got to get it off your chest someplace. Better here than there.”
“Maybe so. Maybe so.” Luke stole a glance at his watch. “Damn. I’ve got to get a move on. My flight is sooner than I’d like it to be, and there’s still too much for me to do here before I can leave.” He stood up, brushed his hands against themselves. Picked up the test tube and started toward the door. “I can get you to close up in here, can’t I? Don’t bother to lock the door — I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Sure. No problem.” Ron felt a little confused and off balance — even when he was busy Luke didn’t tend to make a habit of getting up and running off in the middle of a conversation — but sometimes, he thought, it was his job to feel ill at ease.
“Thanks. I’ll let you know how it works out before I take off. I owe you that.”
Ron nodded. He didn’t feel especially that the man owed him anything, but it didn’t seem sensible to argue. He reached under Luke’s desk to empty the trash, and when he looked up again Luke was gone, left so quietly that he hadn’t even made a sound.
The next laboratory was Phil Johnson’s right down the
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