“On this question of names,” Hebster began doggedly, keeping his eyes on the woman, “since you people claim—”
The woman writhed agonizingly for a moment and sat down on the floor. She smiled at Hebster. With her rotted teeth, the smile had all the brilliance of a dead star.
Hebster cleared his throat and prepared to try again.
“If you want names,” the older man said suddenly, “you can call me Larry.”
The president of Hebster Securities shook himself and managed to say “Thanks” in a somewhat weak but not too surprised voice. He looked at the thin young man.
“You can call me Theseus.” The young man looked sad as he said it.
“Theseus? Fine!” One thing about Primeys, when you started clicking with them, you really moved along. But Theseus! Wasn’t that just like a Primey? Now the woman, and they could begin.
They were all looking at the woman, even Greta with a curiosity which had sneaked up past her beauty-parlor glaze.
“Name,” the woman whispered to herself. “Name a name.”
Oh, no, Hebster groaned. Let’s not stall here.