'Bruce Himmel phoned to say that the San Diego public library is suing him and he may have to go to court and so he'll probably be late.' Miss Perth smiled at him engagingly, showing spotless synthetic ebony teeth, a chilling affectation which had migrated with her from Amarillo, Texas, a year ago. 'The library cops broke into his conapt yesterday and found over twenty of their books that he'd stolen – you know Bruce, he has that phobia about checking things out... how is it put in Greek?'

He passed on into the inner office which was his alone; Virgil Ackerman had insisted on it as a suitable mark of prestige – in lieu of a raise in salary.

And there, in his office, at his window, smoking a sweet-smelling Mexican cigarette and gazing out at the austere brown hills of Baja California south of the city, stood his wife Kathy. This was the first time he had met up with her this morning; she had risen an hour ahead of him, had dressed and eaten alone and gone on in her own wheel.

'What's up?' Eric said to her tightly.

'Come on in and shut the door.' Kathy turned but did not look toward him; the expression on her exquisitely sharp face was meditative.

He closed the door. 'Thanks for welcoming me into my own office.'

'I knew that damn bill collector would intercept you this morning,' Kathy said in a faraway voice.

'Almost eighty greens.' he said. 'With the fines.'

'Did you pay it?' Now for the first time she glanced at him; the flutter of her artificially dark lashes quickened, revealing her concern.