
"What's on now?"
"Lunch?"
Carol shrugged, leaned against the wall outside the hucksters" room to let a knot of people pass, and looked at her pocket program. "The Future of Sf", "Politics and Parallel Worlds", "Jobs in Space", or Moonraker," she read. Lee grimaced. "Hey, it was filmed on location," Carol said, blandly.
"Yeah, with centrifugal force provided by Ian Fleming spinning in his grave," said Lee, who'd hated every Bond film since Connery had quit. "Who's doing the Parallel World panel? Heinlein?"
"No. H. Beam Piper, L. Neil Smith--"
"Give me Liberty, or give me Lunch!" intoned Lee; both men were fervent Libertarians. "Personally, I'll take lunch. McDonalds?"
Carol returned the program to her pocket. "Okay, as long as you promise not to run around yelling "It's a cookbook!" this time."
Lee grinned. "Promise." They headed for the door, but were intercepted halfway across the lobby by a teenaged gopher in a Battlestar Galactica jacket and flared jeans. "Lee," he panted. "The Day Manager wants to see you, she says it's urgent."
The grin twisted into a frown. "Did she say what it was about?"
"Something about the signing session for Heinlein," said the gopher, not quite going into a defensive crouch. "She says there's someone here from L.A. who might cause trouble."
"What sort of trouble?"
"I don"t know. All I know is what she told me. Come on."
Lee glanced at his watch, a cheap digital. "Yeah, okay. I guess there's no such thing as a free lunch-break." He turned to Carol. "Are you free for dinner?"
She batted her eyelashes. "No, but I'm inexpensive."
The grin re-appeared. "Great. Be seeing you."