The Death of Sleep by Anne McCaffrey, Jody Lynn Nye Page B

But you see? It might have been a hundred years. I have been left far behind. Everything I knew, all the complicated technology I developed, is now toys for children."
    "I must apologize. I tossed you into the middle of it. You seemed to be holding your own very well," Lunzie said, contritely.
    Tee shook his head, precipitating a fall of black hair into his eyes. "When a child can blithely reel off what a hundred of us worked on for eight years—for which some of us lost our lives!—and refute it, with logic, I feel old and stupid." Lunzie started a hand to smooth the unsettled forelock, but stopped to let him do it himself.
    "I feel the same way, you know," she said. "Young people, much younger than I am, at any rate, who understand the new medical technology to a fare-thee-well, when I have to be shown where the on-off switch is! I should have realized that I'm not alone in what I'm going through. It was most inconsiderate of me." Lunzie kneaded the muscles at the back of Tee's neck with her strong fingers. Tee seized her hand and kissed it.
    "Ah, but you have the healing touch." He glanced at the console set and smiled at the hologram prism with the image of a lovely young girl beaming out at him. "Fiona?"
    "Yes." Lunzie stroked the edge of the hologram with pride.
    "She is not very like you in coloring, but in character, ah!"
    "What? You can see the stubborn streak from there?" Lunzie said mockingly.
    "It runs right here, along your back;" His fingers traced her spine, and she shivered delightedly. "Fiona is beautiful, just as you are. May I take this?" Tee asked, turning it in his hands and admiring the clarity of the portrait. "If I can feed an image to the computers, it may stir some memory bank that has not yet responded to my queries."
    Lunzie felt awrench at giving up her only physical tie to her daughter, but had to concede the logic. "All right," she agreed reluctantly.
    "I promise you, nothing will happen to it, and much good may result."
    She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "I trust you. Are you ready to rejoin the others?"
    Shof had clearly been chastised in Lunzie's absence. During dinner around the worktable, he questioned Tee respectfully about the details of his research. The others joined in, and the conversation turned to several subjects. Laren proved also to be a Tri-D viewer. Lunzie and he compared their impressions of fashion trends, amidst hilarious laughter from the other two males. Blushing red for making her opinions known, Pomayla tried to defend the fashion industry.
    "Well, you practically support them," Shof said, wickedly, baiting her as he would a sister.
    "What's wrong with garb that makes you look good?" she replied, taking up the challenge.
    "If it isn't comfortable, why wear it?" Lunzie asked, reasonably, joining the fray on Shof s side.
    "For the style—" Pomayla explained, desperately.
    Lunzie raised an eyebrow humorously. " 'We must suffer to be beautiful'? And you call me old fashioned!"
    "I don't know where they get the ideas for these new frocks," Laren said. After a quick glance at Pomayla, "No offense, sweetheart, but some of the fads are so weird."
    "Do you really want to know?" Lunzie asked. "To stay in style for the rest of your life, never throw out any of your clothes. The latest style for next season—I saw it in the Tri-D—is the very same tunic I wore to my primary-school graduation. It probably came around once while I was in cold sleep, and here it is again. Completely new to you youngsters, and too youthful a fashion to be worn by anyone who can remember the last time it was in vogue."
    "Can I look through your family holos?" Pomayla asked, conceding the battle with an impish gleam in her eye. "I want to see what's coming next year. I'll be seasons ahead of the whole Gang."
    The remains of the meal went into the disposer, and Tee rose, stretching his arms over his head and producing a series of cracks down his spine. "Ah. That was just as I remember school