Registering somatic indications of operator
ennui
in excess of program tolerances,
the Q-ship's Mission Management Control System makes a selection from the
audio entertainment library:
Dum; da-da da-da dum, dee da, dum deee da, diddy-diddy-diddy dum.
The subject begins to register a gentle elation.
"Do you sell new eyes now?" she purred.
He became defiantly erect, glaring.
"Sure," he snapped, "Not that you could afford it!"
"Oh I am very willing to pay, sir. The only question is whether you will want what I have to give."
She pouted her lips and thrust out her suddenly very noticeable breasts.
A small note about Saul's relationship with sex: Never once, not in his interminable
pubescent discomfort or in the ten or so years of monastic loneliness that followed
a masters degree in Library and
So Saul looked at this beautiful woman with totem legs, poison green
eyebrows, summer dress and suddenly
noticeable
breasts, and he grinned.
It was a very large, face-spanning, Cheshire grin.
She movie-star winked and said, "But first, handsome," (he wiped away some drool)
"You gotta give me new eyes."
She pointed to her current models, which seemed pretty well
done even if appallingly natural.
"Heh, heh, well, heh, heh, well," Saul said. He used some extra drool to fix his shaggy
hair and motioned that he would only take a minute.
In a back room, which led to
While in the back, chuckling to himself, he doesn't forget to type in an Italian version:
Now Di Manes scowls. Something has interfered with the audio entertainment
portion of this flight -- and just when they were getting to his favorite part about how
power lines have floaters so the airplanes won't get trapped. How annoying.
He punches up the MMCS and checks for
faults in see-three subsystems but the bug hunt returns nothing.
Meanwhile here's that message yet again, coming in on the authorized tightbeam
that ought to be straight from
Quarterdeck.
But any idiot knows these ops demand
total emissions blackout. Not much point, otherwise.
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