appeared rather more male than female; fluoroscopy
showed undeveloped although present and potentially serviceable female organs, but on superficial
inspection naked, both Jason and David had taken him for male until the fluoroscope showed otherwise.
Why did our questions about sexuality disturb him? With his intelligence, and the lack of nudity taboos,
it doesn't seem to make sense.
He put the two charts back into the folder as he saw Conner approaching him across the cafeteria,
carrying a laden tray. The dark face looked sad, abstracted and lonely, but brightened a little as he
stopped at David's table:
"Join you?"
"Glad to have you." David made room. "Back from the city? What's it like?"
"Fascinating, though I've seen stranger around the galaxy."
"Did you all come back? Rondo, Missy—"
"No, they chose to stay," Conner said. "They evidently have more tolerance of crowds than I do. Regis told me I could learn to barricade my—esp sensors, I think he said—and learn to get along in crowds.
He admitted, though, that I'll probably never feel happy about 'em. I gather it's just one of the drawbacks of being—what we are."
"How did you find out what you were?" David asked; but Conner's flinch was so perceptible that he said quickly, "Skip it. Forget I asked."
"Some day. When I'm more—detached," Conner said. "It's pleasant, not being the only telepath around, but it's going to take some getting used to."
They ate in a companionable silence, but David felt vaguely uneasy, remembering that he had an
unpleasant and intrusive duty ahead. How in the hell did you tell a near stranger that you had unwittingly played voyeur on an emotional experience that had evidently meant a good deal to that stranger? Damn
Regis for shoving this off on me! It would be simpler if I could either like or trust Missy, but considering that everything she said to me or Jason was a flat-out lie, I feel uneasy about her.
And the closer I am to Conner the more uneasy I feel. She can't care about him. He's too—too
straightforward. Too nice. Or must have been before whatever it was that threw him into a tailspin.
Conner looked up from his plate, piled with an odd-tasting mixture—fruit and beans?—into David's
eyes. His grin was laced with irony. "I gathered from something Regis said today that there's a fairly elaborate etiquette of the privacies and the decencies in a telepath society to rub off the raw edges," he said. "Obviously none of us has had a chance to develop it, but there must be something indicating that it's rude to think about a man in his presence, Dr. Hamilton."
David wished his face was as dark as Conner's; he knew he was blushing. "I'm sorry; I haven't learned the code, either, if there is one, Conner. And won't you call me David?"
Conner, still piling food into his mouth, said, "I didn't get it all, but let's level with each other. Why am I on your mind? I was thinking it was good to have a doctor on the project who realized I was more than
just a case; what were you thinking about me?"
"First, that you were a David too, and wondering what to call you," the younger man temporized. "The rest—well, not here. Why not come up to my quarters and we can talk?"
"Pleasure. Have you noticed these?" On his way out, Conner stopped at a machine which dispensed small packs of a mixed fruit-nut-candy snack. He said, apologetically, "I seem to be always hungry. I think it's the air here."
David picked up a handful of the bars. He had tasted them earlier; they were evidently, like most of the
food in the HQ building, a local product. He said, "One thing everybody on the project seems to have in common is abnormally high metabolisms, which suggests telepathy demands a high energy output.
Although I understand it appears in a trance state too." He noticed a package under Conner's arm. "Been souvenir hunting already?"
"No. Danilo gave it to me and suggested I put it up in my room, and that maybe I'd find it an
showed undeveloped although present and potentially serviceable female organs, but on superficial
inspection naked, both Jason and David had taken him for male until the fluoroscope showed otherwise.
Why did our questions about sexuality disturb him? With his intelligence, and the lack of nudity taboos,
it doesn't seem to make sense.
He put the two charts back into the folder as he saw Conner approaching him across the cafeteria,
carrying a laden tray. The dark face looked sad, abstracted and lonely, but brightened a little as he
stopped at David's table:
"Join you?"
"Glad to have you." David made room. "Back from the city? What's it like?"
"Fascinating, though I've seen stranger around the galaxy."
"Did you all come back? Rondo, Missy—"
"No, they chose to stay," Conner said. "They evidently have more tolerance of crowds than I do. Regis told me I could learn to barricade my—esp sensors, I think he said—and learn to get along in crowds.
He admitted, though, that I'll probably never feel happy about 'em. I gather it's just one of the drawbacks of being—what we are."
"How did you find out what you were?" David asked; but Conner's flinch was so perceptible that he said quickly, "Skip it. Forget I asked."
"Some day. When I'm more—detached," Conner said. "It's pleasant, not being the only telepath around, but it's going to take some getting used to."
They ate in a companionable silence, but David felt vaguely uneasy, remembering that he had an
unpleasant and intrusive duty ahead. How in the hell did you tell a near stranger that you had unwittingly played voyeur on an emotional experience that had evidently meant a good deal to that stranger? Damn
Regis for shoving this off on me! It would be simpler if I could either like or trust Missy, but considering that everything she said to me or Jason was a flat-out lie, I feel uneasy about her.
And the closer I am to Conner the more uneasy I feel. She can't care about him. He's too—too
straightforward. Too nice. Or must have been before whatever it was that threw him into a tailspin.
Conner looked up from his plate, piled with an odd-tasting mixture—fruit and beans?—into David's
eyes. His grin was laced with irony. "I gathered from something Regis said today that there's a fairly elaborate etiquette of the privacies and the decencies in a telepath society to rub off the raw edges," he said. "Obviously none of us has had a chance to develop it, but there must be something indicating that it's rude to think about a man in his presence, Dr. Hamilton."
David wished his face was as dark as Conner's; he knew he was blushing. "I'm sorry; I haven't learned the code, either, if there is one, Conner. And won't you call me David?"
Conner, still piling food into his mouth, said, "I didn't get it all, but let's level with each other. Why am I on your mind? I was thinking it was good to have a doctor on the project who realized I was more than
just a case; what were you thinking about me?"
"First, that you were a David too, and wondering what to call you," the younger man temporized. "The rest—well, not here. Why not come up to my quarters and we can talk?"
"Pleasure. Have you noticed these?" On his way out, Conner stopped at a machine which dispensed small packs of a mixed fruit-nut-candy snack. He said, apologetically, "I seem to be always hungry. I think it's the air here."
David picked up a handful of the bars. He had tasted them earlier; they were evidently, like most of the
food in the HQ building, a local product. He said, "One thing everybody on the project seems to have in common is abnormally high metabolisms, which suggests telepathy demands a high energy output.
Although I understand it appears in a trance state too." He noticed a package under Conner's arm. "Been souvenir hunting already?"
"No. Danilo gave it to me and suggested I put it up in my room, and that maybe I'd find it an
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