“I do think,” she assured him. “Can’t you just imagine the field-day the psychs would have, taking us apart?”
In view of the above, it might be assumed that the parting was immediate, positive, and undemonstrative; but such was not exactly the case. But they did finally separate, and each slept soundly and long.
And fairly early the next morning—before either of them got up, at least—Cloud sent Joan a thought.
“Awake, dear?”
“Uh-huh. Just. ’Morning, Storm.”
“I’ve got some news for you, Joanie. My brain is firing on ten times as many barrels as I ever thought it had, and I don’t know what half of ’em are doing. Among other things, you made what I think is probably a top-bracket perceiver out of me.”
“So? Well, don’t peek at me, please . . . but why should I say that, after having studied in Rigel Four for two years? Women are funny, I guess. But, for your information, I have just extracted the ninth root of an eighteen-digit number, in no time at all and to the last significant decimal place, and I know the answer is right. How do you like them potatoes, Buster?”
“Nice. We really absorbed each other’s stuff, didn’t we? But how about joining me in person for a soupcon of ham and eggs?”
“That’s a thought, my thoughtful friend; a cogent and right knightly thought. I’ll be with you in three jerks and a wiggle.” And she was.
Just as they finished eating, Vesta breezed in. “Well, you two deep-sleepers finally crawled out of your sacks, did you? It is confusing, though, that ship’s time never agrees with planetary time. But I live here, you know, in this city you call ‘Vegiaton,’ so I went to bed at noon yesterday and I’ve got over half a day’s work done already. I saw my folks and bought half of my uncle’s bank and made the no-gambling declaration and I want to ask you both something. After the Grand Uproar here at the ’port in your honor, will you two and Helen and Joe and Bob and Barbara come with me to a little dance some of my friends are having? You’ve been zo good to me, and I want to show you off a little.”