generally hit Lifeline hard, and it returns the compliment as a matter ofreflex. The effects of alcohol in variant atmospheres is a subject on whichthe connoisseurs have written numerous volumes, so I will confine my remarksto noting that a good binge is worthy of at least a week's time and oftenwarrants a lifetime study.

I had been a student of exceptional promise (strictly undergraduate)for going on two years when the _Bright Water_ fell through our marbleceiling and poured its people like targets into the city.

Pause. The Worlds Almanac re Lifeline: "...Port city on the easterncoast of Hand. Employees of the Agency for Non-terrestrial Research compriseapproximately 85% of its 100,000 population (2010 Census). Its otherresidents are primarily personnel maintained by several industrialcorporations engaged in basic research. Independent marine biologists,wealthy fishing enthusiasts, and waterfront entrepreneurs make up theremainder of its inhabitants."

I turned to Mike Dabis, a fellow entrepreneur, and commented on thelousy state of basic research.

"Not if the mumbled truth be known."

He paused behind his glass before continuing the slow swallowingprocess calculated to obtain my interest and a few oaths, before hecontinued.

"Carl," he finally observed, poker playing, "they're shapingTensquare."

I could have hit him. I might have refilled his glass with sulfuricacid and looked on with glee as his lips blackened and cracked. Instead, Igrunted a noncommittal.

"Who's fool enough to shell out fifty grand a day? ANR?"

He shook his head.

"Jean Luharich," he said, "the girl with the violet contacts and fiftyor sixty perfect teeth. I understand her eyes are really brown."

"Isn't she selling enough face cream these days?"