"It's not really a project . . ."
"Don't skirt the issue. When?"
Scott lowered his head. "Two weeks after we got here."
Tyrone stifled what might otherwise have become a volcanic roar of laughter. "Two weeks? Ha!" Tyrone needled. "You only lasted two weeks? How did Sonja feel about that?" He looked over Scott's at better half listen in.
"Ah, well, she sort of insisted . . ."
"You drove her nuts? In two weeks?" Sonja shook her head vigor- ously in agreement but kept speaking to Arlene Duncan.
"Kind of; semi-sorta-kinda-maybe." Scott grinned impishly.
"But, yeah, I have been working on something." He couldn't keep it to himself.
"Dare I ask?"
"Off the record?" Scott sounded insistent.
"This is a twist. How about attorney-client privilege?" Tyrone asked. Scott didn't disagree. "Good," said Tyrone. "Give me a dollar. That's my yearly fee."
Scott complied, finding a soaking wet dollar bill in his swim- ming trunks. He laid it next to Tyrone's plate.
"Well?" Tyrone asked with great interest.
"Well, I discovered we never developed the A-Bomb to end World War II."
"Excuse me?"
"Someone gave it to us."
THE END