"I missed that one second from the last," he said to Nik.
"A pretty thing," Nik said appraisingly. "Quite well equipped, too." His hands shaped an imaginary bosom.
"She looked—I'm not sure—familiar."
Nik laughed. "That's not unusual. There's a blue girl—she'll be coming on shortly—who once reminded me of my mother. I suppose one of your Morale Investigators would say that was significant. But it's not, really. A beautiful girl seen in the distance, or not clearly, will always remind you of someone."
"Only if that someone matters," Hendley said with surprising clarity.
The young Freeman made a mock grimace of pain. "Hmmm," he murmured. "I should have thought of that."
"What's a blue girl?"
"Same as in your outside world. You see, the showgirls are all outsiders. Red means a 5-Daygirl. Green a four, blue a three. Obviously they don't wear their uniforms while they're performing."
Hendley smiled absently. He wished that he had had a clearer view of the eleventh girl. Even in the distance of the stage, and in the strangely erotic distortion of the colored spotlight, she seemed familiar. But whom could she remind him of? There was only....
"What's wrong?" Nik asked. "Feeling dizzy again?"