Overload (92 page)

COMPULSORY WITHIN FIVE YEARS. AFTER THAT, THE OLD DOLLAR WILL BE PHASED

OUT, HAVING VALUE ONLY AS A COLLECTOR'S ITEM.

AT HIS NEWS CONFERENCE THE PRESIDENT WILL UNDOUBTEDLY BE ASKED . . .

Nim thought: So the possibility which GSP & L's Washington lobbyist had

mentioned last week had become reality.

He was aware of Nancy Molineaux, waiting.

"I'm no financial genius," Nim said. "But I don't think you need to be

one to know that what's happening here"-be tapped the teletype sheet with

a finger-"has been inevitable for a long time, since inflation started

and, after that, we let ourselves get dependent on imported oil.

Unfortunately, a lot of decent, middle-class folk who've worked bard and

accumulated savings, are the ones who'll be hurt most when they line up

to trade their dollars ten for one. Even now, though, all that this does

is buy us some time. Time until we stop purchasing oil we can't afford,

stop spending inoney we don't have, and begin developing our own,

untapped energy resources."

"Thanks," Nancy said; "that'll do nicely." She put away a notebook she

had been writing in. "Over at the paper, by the way, they seem to think

that you're Sir Oracle. Oh yes, and speaking of which, you might

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like to know that in Sunday's edition we're reprinting what you said at

that hearing last September-the one where you blew up and got yourself in

the sbit. Suddenly it all makes more sense than it seemed to then." A

thought occurred to her. "Do you want to tell me-for the record-how you

feel about all that?"

On impulse, Nim opened a drawer of his desk and took out a folder. From

it he extracted a sheet of blue stationery and read aloud:

Be, at that harvest moment, forgiving, gracious, Broad of mind,

large-purposed, Amused by life's contrariness.

"Not bad," Nancy said. "Who wrote that?"

"A friend of mine." He found he was having trouble speaking. "A friend

who died today."

There was a silence, then she asked, "May I read it all?"

"I don't see why not." He handed her the paper.

When Nancy had finished, she looked up. "A woman?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Was that the reason you looked the way you did when I came in here

tonight-like you'd been swept up from a stable floor?"

Nim smiled briefly. "If that's the way I looked, I suppose the answer's

'yes."'

Nancy put the sheet of stationery on top of the folder on his desk. "Want

to tell me about it? Off the record, if you like."

"Yes," he said, "it'll be off the record. Her name was Karen Sloan. She

was a quadriplegic, and had been one since she was fifteen." He stopped.

"Go on," Nancy said. "I'm listening."

"I think she was the most beautiful person-in every way-I've ever known."

A pause, then: "How did you meet her?"

"Accidentally. It happened right after that blackout last July

Barely an hour ago Nim bad longed for someone to talk to, to confide in.

Now, he poured it out to Nancy. She listened, interjecting an occasional

question, but was mostly silent. When be described the manner of Karen's

death, she stood up, moved around the room, and said softly, "Oh, baby!

Baby!"

"So you see," Nim said, "I guess looking like something from a stable

floor wasn't all that surprising."

Nancy had returned to the desk. She pointed to his spread-out papers.

"Then why are you bothering with all that crap?"

"I had work to do. Still have."

"Bullshit! Dump it and go home."

He shook his head and glanced toward the bed. "Tonight I'm sleeping

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here. We still have problems, and tomorrow-remember?-we start rolling

blackouts."

"nen come home with me."

He must have looked startled because she added softly, "My pad is five

minutes away. You can leave the phone number, then if you have to, you

can get back here fast. If you don't get called, I'll make breakfast in

the morning, before you leave."

They stood facing each other. Nim was aware of a musky perfume, of

Nancy's slim, willowy, desirable body. He bad an urge to know more about

her. Much more. And he knew-as bad happened so often in his life, and for

the second time tonight-he was being tempted by a woman.

"You won't get the offer again," she said sharply. "So make up your mind.

Yes or no?"

He hesitated for the briefest second. Then he told her, "Okay, let's go.

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