"Damn that Rajuz! He's the Dean, and he wants us in his office. So it goes, Eddie—if it's not one thing it's another. We have no choice, of course. We'll have to go."
They left the room and stood on a moving sidewalk with a lot of other people and this first five-minute glimpse of the place was enough to convince him that he had indeed been teleported through time. A lot of what he saw could not even register in his brain simply because he had no standards for comparison. But he did notice almost at the outset that everything seemed simplified—possibly because telepathy and teleportation were the reigning king and queen.
"You've seen enough of the city for now," Eeb told him. "All these people are out walking for the exercise. Let's take the shorter way to Rajuz's office."
One moment they stood there on the moving sidewalk, the next they were in the presence of Rajuz.
Rajuz sat at what must have been a desk, a spherical desk, but he did not look much like a dean. He could have been a technician or even a truck-driver.
Eeb explained, "The trend has been away from differentiation since the sex-identification patterns were decreased. But I'm fed up with it. They all look the same, like that. You know something, Eddie? I like you better."
Rajuz tuned in another of the loudspeakers on his desk, and Eeb explained that it was necessary because the psi-quotient varied in everyone.
"Eeb Lym, Edam Hurst, you have committed a misdemeanor."
"Not him," Eeb said. "It was all my fault."