Sethos smiled. He watched Ela disappear into the interior of the sprawling hillhouse, heard her distant laugh become part of the machinery of voices. People drifted to and fro across the broad lawns.
"Yes," answered Sethos, drawing up a chair. "Succulents are my latest joy. One must specialize. I like to work with growing things, yet I'd feel like a mechanoid if I got involved in crystal sculpture, like my charming Ela there."
"Perhaps—but who else gets such color, starts so many new directions as she? My flowers blush before her crystals." Paton's glass was empty, and with an automatic gesture, Sethos refilled it from a tall flask standing nearby, and poured one for himself.
"Speaking of mechanoids," Paton continued genially, "I had a most stimulating conversation with Mr. First himself a few days ago. He came to see me."
Sethos blinked. That was unusual—mechanoids seldom mingled with humans, especially those of the primary levels.
"He's very intelligent about flowers," Paton went on, waving his glass in animation. "We talked about common hedge roses. Did you know he raises them?"
"Amazing!" Sethos drank deeply of the fiery liquor. Now the drifting plumes of smoke from the chalices performed fantasies with his vision, and his body felt light again, as it had so often in the evenings of the past few years.
"Of course I was flattered, having a visit from the most prime mechanoid. He could have called me, but they are somewhat conscious of being mechanical as it is, and try to be cordial as possible."
Sethos leaned forward eagerly. "Did he say anything about—their activities?"
"Well, that's not too interesting to me, because it's always just one change after another outside. He did say there is a new earth-bridge between the continents. Doesn't it seem incredible that they should want to go to all that trouble? But then, that's a mechanoid for you. Always making things bigger. That's why I enjoy seeing Mr. First take up flowers. Maybe he sees things our way himself."