I stood up and looked around. And my scope of interest widened as I found myself in the center of a lot of confusion.
Roger Wescott, the Interplanetary Transport magnate, was chasing his mouse-like wife around the mermaid tank. She ran past me with a frightened look on her face and I grabbed Wescott's arm.
"Look, Wescott," I said. "Isn't that a bit—"
He grinned at me. "That's Mrs. Ames, and she's down to the size now where I can give her the spanking I've always wanted—" He jerked and I let go his arm. If anyone wanted to spank Mrs. Ames while the spanking was good, he had my blessing.
When they came around again, I yelled, "But who are you?"
He winked and didn't answer and that was enough of a tip-off. There are times when a confidential secretary shouldn't even pretend to recognize his boss.
I turned back to see if I was still standing beside myself, and I was, so I said, "Listen, Margie—"
My voice interrupted, "Margie? I thought you were Miss Ames. I'm O'Graeme. I was going to say—"
I grabbed myself by the lapels. "See here, O'Graeme," I said. "Are you sure this is all right? I mean, everybody seems to be having lots of fun, but what if we get stuck this way? And, listen, can't everyone just walk out of range of that stuff? It must affect only a given area."
He grinned my best grin. "I suggested it. But nobody wants to. Do you?"