's _what_?"

"Coming back. BureauMed is sending her back here to the Institute to
take up her old job in Intercom. Funny they haven't told you, her being
an old employee and all."

Dr. Wong was gripping his notebook in stiff fingers, but he replied
easily, "Oh, well, BureauMed is a complex organization. With all they
have to do, it's not surprising they get things mixed up sometimes."

"Don't I know!" she sighed, and droned on in a dreary monotone. "This
one institute alone would turn your hair gray before your time. I don't
know how some people seem to keep so young. I was just thinking to
myself this morning when I watched you walking through the office, 'Why,
Dr. Wong doesn't seem to age a bit! He looks just as young as he ever
did, and look at me!'"

Looking at her, David admitted to himself, was not the pleasure it had
once been. Ten years ago, she and her twin sister Tanya had been plump,
delectable, kittenish girls, their mental equipment no more than
standard for Office Category, of course, but their physical appearance
had been outstanding, almost beautiful enough for Theater Category.
Creamy ivory skin, gray eyes, and soft red hair dramatized by a freakish
streak of white that shot abruptly back from the center of the forehead,
Tanya's swirling to the left, and Leah's to the right, one girl the
mirror image of the other.

But the Leah sitting before him now was thin and tired-looking, her
sallow skin was lined, and her soft voice had become vinegary with
disappointments. Her red hair had faded to a commonplace brown, and the
white streak in the center was yellowed. An unwanted, souring old maid.
But there was only one response to make.

"You look fine to me, Leah," he said. "What time did you say your sister
is coming?"

"Tomorrow evenings' Playground Jet. Why?"

"We'll have to think of a way to celebrate. But right now, I'd like to
get started on my new paper. I've got to meet Dr. Haslam before long."

"I know." She raised her faded gray eyes. "That was a funny thing you
said to him just now over the intercom. You said to him it was getting
late. But it isn't late. It's only eleven o'clock in the morning."

David stared. "Do you mean to say you were listening to our
conversation? Why did you do that?"

She fidgeted and turned away from him. "Oh, I just happened to be at
Comdesk and I guess the circuit wasn't closed. Does it matter? But it
seemed a funny thing for you to say."

"People in Office