I didn't want to look into her eyes. I wanted to look away, but I
couldn't find a decent excuse to. I saw her eyes become wide and
noticed for the first time that they were a warm gray, almost a mouse
color. I felt like laughing at that irrelevant observation, but more
than that I felt like turning and running. I felt like climbing and
dashing all over the walls like a frustrated cat and yelling at the
top of my lungs. I felt like anything but standing there and looking
stupid, meeting her stare--
* * * * *
She looked down quickly and recorded my name. It took her a little
longer than necessary. In that time she recovered. Somewhat.
"All right," she said finally, "I'll make a search."
She turned to a row of buttons on a console in the center of the desk
and began to press them in various combinations. A typer clicked away.
She tore off a slip of paper, consulted it, and said, "Information
desired is in Bank 29. Please follow me."
Well, following her was a pleasure, anyway. I could watch the movement
of her hips and torso as she walked. She was not tall, but long-legged
and extremely lithe. Graceful and rhythmic. Very, very feminine, almost
beyond standard in that respect. I felt blood throb in my temples and
was heartily ashamed of myself.
I would like to be in a mating booth with her, I thought, the full
authorized twenty minutes. And I knew I was unconformist and the
realization hardly scared me at all.
She led me down one of the long passageways.
A few moments later I said, "Don't you sometimes get--well, pretty
lonely working here?" Personal talk at a time like this wasn't approved
behavior, but I couldn't help it.
She answered hesitantly, but at least she answered. She said, "Not
terribly. The cybs are company enough most of the time."
"You don't get many visitors, then."
"Not right here. N. & I. isn't a very popular section. Most people who
come to Govpub spend their time researching in the ancient manuscript
room. The--er--social habits of the pre-atomic civilization."
I laughed. I knew what she meant, all right. Pre-atomics and their
ideas about free mating always fascinated people. I moved up beside
her. "What's your name, by the way?"
"L-A-R-A 339/827."