Her father's look became affectionate. "I don't know where you'd be if
Mother and I hadn't settled down long ago with faked papers by the ream
and started raising little pre-goddesses."
To Herl he said, "Mother's a somatic surgeon, specializing in the
reversal of sterilization operations. That's one reason why they won't
be able to tell Eyefers from anybody else when the smoke clears. Oh,"
he added, remembering, "I forgot to ask about the little insurrection
and whether you think Delightites will want to buy anything from this
sears-monkey."
"You're a dear old Eyefer, Dad," Abigail laughed. "The excitement is
still on, but Hanner and Treece are smoothing things down." She turned
to Herl. "I hope it isn't a disappointment to you, but Delight won't
need to buy anything for years. They're just about to find out that
they can do anything they want to. You'll have to peddle your planets
and your calculators and your dancing girls somewhere else ... where
they're really needed."
And back to Saem, "You can go see the fire for yourself now, if you
like."
"I guess that's my cue," Saem stood up a foot or so above the floor,
extended his glowing hand. "Take care of my little girl and drop back
this way sometime soon."
Not knowing what else to do, Herl reached for the hand and saw his own
vanish into the cloud, felt nothing. "Good-bye, sir," he fumbled.