"She took one of the Anoushka's pens they put at the end of each table,and decisively started writing something on a paper napkin. Herhandwriting was ...eminine, neat but with swirling loops."Here's my cell number, and this is the address of my apartment," shesaid, and then looked at me critically. "But then you probably knowwhere it is, already?" No," I shamefully correct. "I've never followed you."She frowned, not entirely believing me."Come over this evening and we'll start shopping for what. Sunday was a study day and again I spent the day with my nose buried in the technical manuals. Some of the manuals seemed to be getting written as we worked. The stuff dealing with the fusion power core in particular seemed to have been recently written and designed to explain the unexplainable in layman's terms. It was kind of like discovering that your Indy 500 race car came with a Harley Davidson manual that had been heavily edited with white out and a marking pen. I paid attention to what. More

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