42
Evers
Evers sat in his favorite wingback chair in his living room, beside a heavily varnished, bigger-than-life, painting of his grandfather in a gilt frame. The old geezer, draped in a turn-of-the-century, high-vested suit, cast a sinister glance though blinkless, smirking eyes. Evers was absorbed in reviewing the engineering specs of a proposed launch missile while Mary Catherine sat nearby, knitting. Caught in their own world, neither paid any attention to the TV sounds, stirring only to the phone’s ring. Neither made any effort to answer it, until a servant announced it was for Evers.
“I hate to be the one to tell you,” General Hightower said, “But the Senate just passed the Tobias Crime Bill.”
“What!” Evers didn’t notice or care that the blueprints had slid off his lap to the f
