mother are always coming down with something. He's _sensitive_. Iwon't have some other woman taking care of my child when he needs myattention. And I _won't_ have these teenage girls for Kenneth withtheir boyfriends lolling all over the sofa. I wouldn't have an easyminute while we were away. Anyway, when we _do_ get out I don't noticeyou bending over backwards to get tickets for anything decent. It'salways something _you_ want to see. Those silly Marilyn Monroe movies,for instance."
"What's wrong with Marilyn Monroe? I wouldn't _mind_ being nagged by_her_."
"I see," choked the young woman, biting her lip. "Thank you very much.Of course it's perfectly _OK_ when something is wrong with every othermeal I cook. It's _fine_ when Your Majesty doesn't like the dress I'vegot on or the way I have my hair."
Mrs. Randolph's rising voice elicited a child's cry from the rear ofthe apartment. Both parents stiffened.
"Go ahead, say it, say it was _me_ who woke him up this time," bleatedRandolph. He quickly snapped a newspaper up between himself and hiswife.
Mrs. Mimms cut the picture and erased the name from the pilotindicator. The case was a typical one, routine in fact; yet it was thefirst one of the assignment and Mrs. Mimms was moved to expedite it.She picked up the telephone and placed a call to nearby New York City.The party answered promptly.
"Althea! How nice. I didn't know you were in the Twentieth again. Whatcan I do for you?"
"You can arrange some entertainment for me, George. Something good.For two."
Mrs. Mimms held the phone for a minute. Presently the conversationresumed as the voice of George Kahn, Resident Destinyworker, came overthe wire.
"Sorry to be so long, Althea, it took some managing. I've got you twoin the orchestra for 'My Fair Lady' on the 28th. That's the best ofthe current crop. Nice little thing, it'll be running for another fouryears of course. Ought to catch it yourself some night."
"I'd love to, George, but I shan't have time. Not the way thisassignment's developing. You know what to do with the tickets."
Mrs. Mimms replaced the telephone in its cradle and turned again tothe Master Selector. Among the kaleidoscope of voices and figures notall were scenes of frustration and discontent. Yet enough of them wereso that Mrs. Mimms was seriously disturbed. Then again, the apparatushad its indiscriminate faults: at one scene Mrs. Mimms blushed deeplyand flicked the dial to another setting. Suddenly she was surprised tohear a familiar voice. The pilot monitor showed that it was theapartment of the building superintendent.
"It ain't right. You know it ain't right," the super was saying. Hewas sunk deep into an overstuffed chair and there was a can of beer athis elbow. "No wonder the kids're getting lousy report cards. Theminute they get home from school they park in front of the TV. By thetime they're ready for supper they're so excited watching Indians andcowboys and Foreign Legion stuff they can't eat. Afterwards they aretoo knocked out to do their homework."
"Don't I know it," said his wife. "But you can't forbid them becauseall the other kids are allowed to watch the same things. Adele Jonesdown the hall says she has the same trouble. They tried taking Brian'sTV away and the kid put up such a fuss they gave it back just to getsome peace."
The super took a swallow of beer and tapped one of the report cards indisgust.
"Look at that. Charlotte gets a 'D' in Reading. Goddam it, she's asmart enough kid. I can't remember when's the last time I saw _either_of them bring a book back from the library. Hell, they're too busyworrying about how Sergeant Prestons' going to come out."
"You'd think they'd have more educational stuff on TV."
"I may be only a superintendent," growled the super, "but, by God,those kids are going to college. They're gonna have opportunities Inever had. Sometimes I got a good mind to kick a hole right throughthat 21" screen."
"Aw, Chuck, honey, take it easy. You're the best super this buildingever had. I got me a real sweet guy, even if he isn't no collegegraduate."
"I ain't no Biff Baker or Captain Video, either. Maybe if I was thekids could watch me and we could dump the TV set."
Mrs. Mimms dimmed the screen and recorded the problem briefly in anotebook marked ACTIVE. This too was a common enough complaint of theTime Zone. Mrs. Mimms rummaged about in one of the suitcases until sheproduced a brightly colored box. Inside the box were a number ofobjects resembling radio condensers with small metal clamps at eitherend. Mrs. Mimms removed one and read the label: FILTER XC8794,Reading. _Caution: for best results attach to TV aerial. Lasts 2 weeksonly. Destroy label before using._
"I _do_ hope the superintendent's set doesn't have rabbits' ears,"said Mrs. Mimms, dialing the super's apartment again to check."Hooking these up to a regular aerial is so much easier." Thesuperintendent's set luckily had an outside antenna and bymanipulating certain dials, the Destinyworker traced it out and up tothe roof. Pressing a button marked TRACER LIGHT, she left the set inoperation and made her way up to the top floor of the apartment house.Taking the fire exit to the roof, Mrs. Mimms found herself among aforest of TV aerials. However there was a small circle of light castabout one of them and she went to it and attached the filter.
Returning to her apartment, Mrs. Mimms went immediately to bed. Shewould have liked a last cup of tea before retiring, but she was tootired to fix it.
The telephone woke the time traveler at half past ten the nextmorning. She answered it sleepily. It was a young mother, Mrs. Mimms'first customer. Could Mrs. Mimms _possibly_ come that night? The voicesounded desperate, then relieved when Mrs. Mimms answered Yes, shewould be there.
Remembering that she had had nothing to eat since her own century,Mrs. Mimms hurried below to the delicatessen and purchased some Danishpastry. She looked forward to a cup of strong tea. As she waited forthe water to boil, she switched on the apparatus and dialed once ortwice across the band. At that hour most of the apartments weresilent. Wives were attending to cleaning or washing and the childrenhad been sent out to play. Leaving the apparatus for a minute, Mrs.Mimms made her tea. When she returned there was a burst of static onthe loudspeaker, then a loud childish voice and images took shape onthe screen.
"I'm captain of this spaceship, Ronnie Smith," insisted the taller ofthe two youngsters. "You gotta do like I say. We're the first guys onthis planet, see? We got cut off from the ship by the monsters and weonly got another half hour of oxygen left. We gotta shoot our wayback. Let's go, Lieutenant Smith."
"Ah, you're always the captain," muttered Lt. Smith mutinously, thoughinaudibly under his F.A.O. Schwartz plastic helmet. The two Earthlingsadvanced cautiously across the parking lot in the rear of theapartment building, mowing down the aliens like flies with theiratomic ray guns.
"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah. See me get that one, Smith?" screamed the captainmurderously. "Right in the belly, look at the guts. Ah-ah-ah-ah. Bigspiders, about twenty feet tall. There's some more. Make every shotcount, Smith. We gotta make the ship before they do."
"I just blasted five of 'em with one shot," bragged Lt. Smith,leveling his pistol at a particularly large alien and watching itdissolve.
Fighting their way desperately across the parking lot the spacemenfinally made the Smith family car in safety. "Blast off immediately,Lt. Smith," ordered the captain. The rocket wavered for a minute androse. "Wait a minute, Smith. I seen Rocky Morgan do this once in acomic book. No member of the Space Patrol lets an alien get awayalive. We got to kill 'em all. Head back and we'll get the rest of 'emwith the hydrogen artillery." Accordingly the ship swept low over thestrange planet. "Ah-ah-ah-ah." Twin sheets of imaginary flame burstfrom the rocket and the remainder of the faltering spider-monstersperished horribly.
Shaking her head, Mrs. Mimms spun the Master Selector until the screenwent blank. An avid space traveler herself (she was especially fond ofa nice Lunar trip at vacation time), the negative implications of thischildish violence had a depressing effect on Mrs. Mimms. She noted theincident down in her notebook and starred it for special attention.
Like any woman in any century, Mrs. Mimms had an infallible remedy f
orcheering herself up. She went shopping. By economizing on her expenseaccount she found it possible to afford a tiny luxury now and then.Mrs. Mimms bought a badly needed blouse and some facial cream. Shealso bought some groceries and a newspaper. After a modest meal, shefound that she had an hour before her babysitting assignment. Openingthe newspaper to the sports page, she indulged in one of theamusements common among Certified Priority Operators. Glancing downthe list of tomorrow's daily-double she checked the names of horsesto win, place and show. Mrs. Mimms made her