“How early you are; you said on the vidphone—” “I got finished earlier than I had expected.” Chuck entered her apt, glancing at the excessively modern furniture; it was neo-pre-Columbian in style, based on recent archeological discoveries of the Incan culture in South America. All the furniture of course was hand wrought. And on the walls hung the new animated action-paintings that never ceased moving; they consisted of two-dimensional machines that clattered away softly, like the rush of a ...distant ocean. Or, he thought more practically, like a subsurface autofac. He was not certain he liked them. “You’ve got it with you,” Miss Weaver said delightedly. She wore—and this seemed odd for so early in the evening—a high-fashion Paris dress, the like of which he had witnessed in magazines but never before in actual life. This was a long way from his desk at CIA. The dress was lavish and complex, like the petals of a non-T flower; it must have cost a thousand skins, Chuck decided.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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