The music broke off without warning and there blared out an announcement which yanked Ralph Kinnison back to Earth with a violence almost physical. He jumped up, jammed his hands into his pockets.
"Pearl Harbor!" he blurted. "How in.... How could they have let them get that far?"
"But Frank!" the woman gasped. She had not worried much about her husband; but Frank, her son.... "He'll have to go...." Her voice died away.
"Not a chance in the world." Kinnison did not speak to soothe, but as though from sure knowledge. "Designing Engineer for Lockwood? He'll want to, all right, but anyone who was ever even exposed to a course in aeronautical engineering will sit this war out."
"But they say it can't last very long. It can't, can it?"
"I'll say it can. Loose talk. Five years minimum is my guess—not that my guess is any better than anybody else's."
He prowled around the room. His somber expression did not lighten.
"I knew it," the woman said at length. "You, too—even after the last one.... You haven't said anything, so I thought, perhaps...."
"I know I didn't. There was always the chance that we wouldn't get drawn into it. If you say so, though, I'll stay home."
"Am I apt to? I let you go when you were really in danger...."