To his unending amazement, they were married three months later. He had insisted that they live on his income for the first few years, but Lori had gradually convinced him to accept her money as his own and they finally left his humble rooms for a spacious, modern conapt in one of the fancier tower blocks. Lori felt right at home, but he was having trouble making the transition. He had taken a lot of kidding about it at work, and he still felt out of place, a working stiff in the midst of society types.

Still, he had no right to complain. The conapt was a marvel. He lay back in bed and gazed at the holoscreen in the ceiling, remembering the erotic holovids he and Lori had made, and how it added that little something extra to have them running while they made love. And he enjoyed the pure, sensual pleasure of giving himself over to the immersion room at the end of a long day, letting its lifters and waterjets turn him and pummel the fatigue from his muscles while the steam rose around him, then relaxing while the airjets blew him dry. The social side of his new life might be giving him trouble, but he found himself getting really used to its physical luxuries.

But above all, he had Lori, her ardor unabated in all the years they had been together. He thought back to the morning’s love-making, and a sudden memory of his dream intruded on his thoughts, shattering his contentment. He shook his head, disturbed.

That dream had been too real! He just couldn’t throw it off, however foolish it was. And it was incredibly foolish. Why was he, the luckiest of men, dreaming of a fantasy woman when he had Lori? That seemed perverse at best, and crazy at worst.

Lori emerged from the bathroom, her body glistening, and again Quaid wondered what this sleek, elegant rich girl saw in him. With a shrug, he jumped out of bed to take his turn in the bathroom. No time for immersion this morning; a quick shower would have to do. He finished, dried, and got dressed in his work clothes.