An S.P.G. operator works in soft, homogeneous plastic; I work in bronze that is more complicated than you dream, that is cast and acid-dipped today so it will slowly take on rich and subtle coloring many years from today.
An S.P.G. operator could not make an Orpheus Fountain—
He mumbled, "Orpheus," and keeled over.
Halvorsen awoke in his bed on the second floor of the building. His fingers and toes buzzed electrically and he felt very clear-headed. The girl and a man, unmistakably a doctor, were watching him.
"You don't seem to belong to any Medical Plans, Halvorsen," the doctor said irritably. "There weren't any cards on you at all. No Red, no Blue, no Green, no Brown."
"I used to be on the Green Plan, but I let it lapse," the artist said defensively.
"And look what happened!"
"Stop nagging him!" the girl said. "I'll pay you your fee."
"It's supposed to come through a Plan," the doctor fretted.