She looked up at him, unable to speak, her eyes shining, and then she was running ahead of him, down the slope toward the aircar.
The car climbed swiftly away from the valley floor, up between the canyon walls and above them, over the crest of the hills. He circled it for a moment, banking it over on its side so that she could look down at the gorge and the rocks and the cascading stream.
"How do you like it, Lisa?"
"I don't know." She smiled, rather weakly, her body braced against the seat. "It feels so strange."
He smiled back and straightened the car, turning away from the mountains until the great, gardened valley stretched out before them, all the way to the foot of the western hills.
"I'll show you the museum," he said. "I only wish I could take you inside."
She moved away from him, nearer to the window, and looked down at the scattered houses that lay below them, at the people moving in the gardens, at the children.
"I never dreamed it was like this," she said. "I never could picture it before."
There was a longing in her face he'd never noticed before. He stared at her, and she was different suddenly, and her thin muscular body was different too.