The government pointed out that such crowds outside the building might attract the enemy's attention. I was the most important individual on Earth, they told my followers, and my safety couldn't be risked. The human race at this stage was pretty docile. The crowds went away. And it was right that they should; I didn't want to be risked any more than they wanted to risk me.
Plenty of people did come to see me officially—the President, generals, all kinds of big wheels, bringing citations, medals and other obsolete honors they'd revived primarily for me. It was wonderful. I began to love everybody.
"Don't you think you're putting too much of yourself into this, Kev?" Lucy asked me one day.
I gave her an incredulous glance. "You mean I shouldn't help people?"
"Of course you should help them. I didn't mean anything like that. Just ... well, you're getting too bound up in your work."
"Why shouldn't I be?" Then the truth, as I thought, dawned on me. "Are you jealous, Lucy?"
She lowered her eyes. "Not only that, but the war's bound to come to an end, you know, and—"
It was the first part of her sentence that interested me. "Why, do you mean—"
And just then a fresh batch of casualties arrived and I had to tend to them. For the next few days, I was so busy, I didn't get the chance to have the long talk with Lucy I'd wanted....