45<IF recipient=humor (ODD) GOTO 55 if recipient=humor(CONVENTIONAL), GOTO 50>

50<jokeclass=punchline><pete>“Terrible.”</punchline> </pete>

52<GOTO 60>

55<jokeclass=alt punchline><pete>“He can’t smell <pause=.8 sec> he has no nose.”</punchline></pete>

60<IF laughter=1 GOTO <joke/chestnut/musichall/wife/ westindies.jok> IF laughter=0 GOTO 65>

65<end joke>

A few stands farther on was a tech start-up company hoping to solve all our energy problems by inducing power from the sun’s magnetic field via a one lakh-mile tether being towed behind a space station anchored gravitationally at Lagrange One. The power would then be transported to earth by a high-powered laser with a transfer efficiency of 1.3 percent—not impressive, but still powerful enough to cater to three-fifths of the earth’s power needs.

“Would you like to take a leaflet?” asked an eager young man. I told him no thanks and walked next to a group of tech companies that were adapting ancillary time technologies to assist modern living. I noted that Age-Fast had a trade stand here with one of their perfectly weathered Jaguar XK120s in pride of place.

Next door to them and still on the same theme was a company marketing the Dilatorvator, a fridge that kept food fresh by simply slowing down time.

“The interior of the storage unit will age only two seconds every week,” explained the promoter, “A fresh steak will last four centuries—and at room temperature. Food-storage problems are finally solved forever. And when our photon dilatorvator is perfected, we really mean forever.”

I hurried on, trying not to be distracted, and had almost reached the stage when I came across a stand that was manned by someone of more immediate interest—Mr. Chowdry, Swindon’s rep of the Asteroid Strike Likelihood Committee.

I walked up and introduced myself to him, a tall man with a kindly manner and a soft voice that sounded like the E string on a double bass.

“Tell me,” I said, “how do you calculate the Ultimate Risk Factor for events like HR-6984?”

“I have little to do with the actual calculation,” admitted Mr. Chowdry. “I simply feed in relevant details. Longevity projections of the Destiny Aware were of huge assistance. Since we have no one who lives past February of 2041, the destruction looks more and more likely. In fact,” he added, “we’ve just updated our forecast this morning. The likelihood of a fiery end has jumped from yesterday’s sixty eight percent to eighty-one percent.”

“Why?”

“Several reasons. Pension applications have dropped off, and there has been a significant jump in the number of endowment policies to mature one year before the strike.”

It looked as if people were beginning to get worried after all, but then they usually did when the Likelihood Index rose. I suddenly had a thought.

“But surely,” I ventured, as math was not my strong point, “the fact that people are making provision for our end can’t actually raise the possibility itself?”