Sidney’s receding hairline and high forehead. “I had to pull strings to get it.”
“How did you manage it?”
Carla smiled. “Leave a girl some secrets, Sidney.” She thought of Chief of Staff Billie Birdbright. Billie likes me enough to give me an override. But when will he get around to asking me out?
The car dropped quickly and silently, depositing them at the entrance to the Cave Coffee Shop. It was an immense, dimly lit restaurant, dotted with hundreds of tiny tables. Each of the four perimeter glassite walls looked out upon one of the iridescent bat caves that honeycombed the ground beneath New City.
“You’re quiet today,” Carla said as they took a seat at their usual window booth overlooking an underground waterfall. She looked at his soft-featured face, with its familiar pug nose and wing-like ears at the sides. “You aren’t worried about a comet coming, are you?” She laughed.
“No. The doomies are crazy. I was just thinking about my job again . . . and wishing to Uncle Rosy I’d taken a physical for the Space Patrol twenty years ago.”
“But your . . . “—Carla looked around, whispered—” . . . disability. It would have shown up.” She touched a tiny dice cage mounted on the table, looked at him intently with understanding in her eyes.
“Maybe not.” Sidney watched people beginning to stream into the coffee shop. “The incorto dispenser my father implanted . . . in place of my appendix . . . has an x-ray scrambler. It takes special equipment to detect it.”
“Your father was a great surgeon,” she said, looking at him tenderly. “You seem so unhappy in Central Forms. Could it be that you would prefer life on a therapy orbiter?”
“With the exception of missing you, it might be more interesting.” He laughed nervously. “Look at me, Carla. I want so desperately to be a gallant captain at the controls of a space cruiser, on a great mission to the outer reaches of the galaxy. And here I am . . . hundreds of floors underground!” He fell silent, gazed out into the cave as a flurry of large butterfly bats passed in front of the waterfall, then disappeared behind a blue and white stalagmite formation.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Really I am.” She reached across the table, took his pudgy hand in hers. “You always had that romantic dream of running away to the sky . . . even when we were kids.”
Sidney fought back a tear, turned to study her classically featured face, with its straight Roman nose and high cheekbones. A red painted beauty mark dotted the left cheek, and long curls of golden brown hair cascaded onto her shoulders. People thought Carla of average build, and the muscle tone of her body provided evidence of time spent in Bu-Health gyms. Sidney tried to smile, said, “I remember we used to play condominium together. And we promised to become permies someday. . . . ” He cleared his throat.
“The grown-up world isn’t simple,” Carla said.
“Can’t we find some way to work it out?”
“No!” She spoke firmly. “We’ve been through that before . . . the probability of cappy offspring and all. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”
“But that’s only a fifty-fifty chance. And even if there was a handicap, maybe we could find a doctor who would—”
Her voice grew cool. “No,” she said. “Absolutely not.” She pulled her hand away, noticed Chief of Staff Birdbright slide into a booth two tables behind Sidney. Birdbright smiled at Carla. She looked away, said to Sidney: “Let’s order now. Everyone’s arriving.”
They mentoed orders into a tabletop receiver. Then they fell silent while waiting for the order to arrive, glancing at one another for several agonizing moments without speaking.
The coffee shop was full now, and Sidney listened to a talkative silver-haired girl at the next table. “I don’t know what happened to Abercrombie,” the girl said. “One day I came to work and he wasn’t there. Then packing meckies cleared his
“How did you manage it?”
Carla smiled. “Leave a girl some secrets, Sidney.” She thought of Chief of Staff Billie Birdbright. Billie likes me enough to give me an override. But when will he get around to asking me out?
The car dropped quickly and silently, depositing them at the entrance to the Cave Coffee Shop. It was an immense, dimly lit restaurant, dotted with hundreds of tiny tables. Each of the four perimeter glassite walls looked out upon one of the iridescent bat caves that honeycombed the ground beneath New City.
“You’re quiet today,” Carla said as they took a seat at their usual window booth overlooking an underground waterfall. She looked at his soft-featured face, with its familiar pug nose and wing-like ears at the sides. “You aren’t worried about a comet coming, are you?” She laughed.
“No. The doomies are crazy. I was just thinking about my job again . . . and wishing to Uncle Rosy I’d taken a physical for the Space Patrol twenty years ago.”
“But your . . . “—Carla looked around, whispered—” . . . disability. It would have shown up.” She touched a tiny dice cage mounted on the table, looked at him intently with understanding in her eyes.
“Maybe not.” Sidney watched people beginning to stream into the coffee shop. “The incorto dispenser my father implanted . . . in place of my appendix . . . has an x-ray scrambler. It takes special equipment to detect it.”
“Your father was a great surgeon,” she said, looking at him tenderly. “You seem so unhappy in Central Forms. Could it be that you would prefer life on a therapy orbiter?”
“With the exception of missing you, it might be more interesting.” He laughed nervously. “Look at me, Carla. I want so desperately to be a gallant captain at the controls of a space cruiser, on a great mission to the outer reaches of the galaxy. And here I am . . . hundreds of floors underground!” He fell silent, gazed out into the cave as a flurry of large butterfly bats passed in front of the waterfall, then disappeared behind a blue and white stalagmite formation.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Really I am.” She reached across the table, took his pudgy hand in hers. “You always had that romantic dream of running away to the sky . . . even when we were kids.”
Sidney fought back a tear, turned to study her classically featured face, with its straight Roman nose and high cheekbones. A red painted beauty mark dotted the left cheek, and long curls of golden brown hair cascaded onto her shoulders. People thought Carla of average build, and the muscle tone of her body provided evidence of time spent in Bu-Health gyms. Sidney tried to smile, said, “I remember we used to play condominium together. And we promised to become permies someday. . . . ” He cleared his throat.
“The grown-up world isn’t simple,” Carla said.
“Can’t we find some way to work it out?”
“No!” She spoke firmly. “We’ve been through that before . . . the probability of cappy offspring and all. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”
“But that’s only a fifty-fifty chance. And even if there was a handicap, maybe we could find a doctor who would—”
Her voice grew cool. “No,” she said. “Absolutely not.” She pulled her hand away, noticed Chief of Staff Birdbright slide into a booth two tables behind Sidney. Birdbright smiled at Carla. She looked away, said to Sidney: “Let’s order now. Everyone’s arriving.”
They mentoed orders into a tabletop receiver. Then they fell silent while waiting for the order to arrive, glancing at one another for several agonizing moments without speaking.
The coffee shop was full now, and Sidney listened to a talkative silver-haired girl at the next table. “I don’t know what happened to Abercrombie,” the girl said. “One day I came to work and he wasn’t there. Then packing meckies cleared his
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