Striking the Balance

He had just set the local brews-altogether a deeper, richer amber than Budweiser’s-before Sam and Barbara when Jonathan woke up and started to fuss. Barbara took him out of the carriage and held him, which calmed him down. “You were a good boy-you let us eat lunch,” she told him. She checked. “You’re even dry. Pretty soon I’ll give you lunch, too.” Now she looked over at Sam. “And pretty soon, maybe, I’ll be able to start giving him formula in a bottle. That should be one of the things that come back pretty fast.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam said. “Way things work, it’ll probably start showing up right about the time he can start drinking regular milk.” He gri

“I only hope it’s a world where hecan grow up,” Barbara said, setting a hand on top of the baby’s head. Jonathan tried to grab it and stuff it into his mouth. Jonathan tried to grab everything and stuff it into his mouth these days. Barbara went on, “What with the bombs and the rockets and the gas-” She shook her head. “And the Lizards’ colonization fleet will get to Earth when he’s only a young man. Who can guess what things will be like then?”

“Not you, not me, not anybody,” Sam said. “Not the Lizards, either.” The colored waiter set the check on the table. Sam dug his wallet out of his hip pocket and pulled out a ten, a five, and a couple of singles, which left the fellow a nice tip. Barbara put Jonathan back into the buggy. As she started wheeling the baby toward the door, Sam finished his thought: “We’ll just have to wait and see what happens, that’s all.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Harry Turtledove was born in Los Angeles in 1949. He has taught ancient and medieval history at UCLA, Cal State Fullerton, and Cal State L.A., and has published a translation of a ninth-century Byzantine chronicle, as well as several scholarly articles. He is also an award-wi