“I know,” Bonnie admitted, biting her lower lip. Lou knew that she was trying to figure some way—

“Listen!” she said, suddenly bright again. “Why don’t I come down and work with you? Maybe we can finish the programming in time for taking off tomorrow—”

“Thanks, but there’s not much you can do. It looks like I’ll have to work all night, at least. So I won’t be in much shape for flying tomorrow.”

Her expression dimmed once more. “It’s just not fair. You have to work all weekend… and this is the biggest race of the year.”

“I know. But genetics comes before racing,” Lou said. “You have a good weekend. See you Monday.”

“All right. But it’s really unfair.”

“Yeah. So long.”

“So… oh, wait! There was a man out here looking for you. Said he was a Federal marshal.”

Lou blinked at her. “A what?”

“A Federal marshal. He wanted to see you.”

“What for?”

Bonnie shook her head. “I thought marshals were only something in Western stories.”

With a grin, Lou said, “Well, we’re out in the West, you know.”

“But he said he was from New York.”

Shrugging, “Well, if he’s looking for me, I’ll be right here all day.”

“If he comes around again, I’ll tell him.”

“All right.” Suddenly curious, Lou asked, “Did he say what he wanted? Why does he want to see me?”

“I don’t know,” Bonnie replied.

After Bonnie signed off, Lou plunged back into work, doing intricate mathematics problems with Ramo’s help and then programming the results into the computer’s memory banks. When he looked at his watch again, it was well past noon. He walked down to the cafeteria and took a sandwich and a steaming cup of coffee from the automatic dispensers. The cafeteria was practically empty: only a few of the weekend clean-up crew at the tables.

The scientific staffs out enjoying the weekend,—Lou grumbled to himself. Well, guess they can’t do much until I finish programming Ramo.