Marian saw a straw and clutched at it. “There might be something. I had to have a Caesarean when Mike was born.”

“Um.” Cleveland Boettiger reached for another document and studied it. “According to your medical data sheet, that was because of the child’s position in the womb at birth. It is not expected to interfere in any way with future child-bearing. Anything else? Any negative psychological reports on Lisa, for example, that would make it inadvisable for her to transfer to another set of parents at this time? Think.”

They thought. They sighed. There was nothing.

“Pretty much as I thought, then, Stew. It definitely doesn’t look good. Well, suppose you sign this and hand it in with the Notice of Superfluity tomorrow. I’ve filled it out.”

“What is it?” Marian asked, peering anxiously at the paper he had handed them.

“A Request for a Delay in Execution. The grounds I’ve given are that you were eminently satisfactory in your job and that therefore the demotion may be only temporary. It won’t stand up once the FPB sends an investigator to your main office, but that will take time. You’ll get an extra month to decide which child and—who knows?—maybe something will turn up by then. A better job with another outfit, another promotion.”

“I couldn’t get a better job with another outfit these days,” Raley said miserably. “I’m lucky to have the one I do, the way things are. And a promotion is out for at least a year.”

There was a screech outside as a jetabout landed on their lawn.

“Company?” Marian wondered. “We weren’t expecting anyone.”

Her husband shook his head. “Company! The last thing in the world we want tonight is company. See who it is, Marian, and tell them please to go away.”