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."
"Thank you, darling. You're so gallant. I think."
"I can cook, too." I scrolled on down to the obituaries. I usually read the
obituaries first as there is always the happy chance that one of them will make
my day.
But not today. No name I recognized. Especially no "Schultz." No
unidentified stranger. No death "in a popular restaurant." Nothing but the usual
sad list of strangers dead from natural causes and one by accident. So I keyed
for general news of the habitat, let it scroll past.
Nothing. Oh, there were endless items of routine events, from ships'
arrivals and departures to (the biggest news) an announcement that the newest
addition, rings 130-140, was being brought up to spin and, if all went by
schedule, would be warped in and its welding to the main cylinder started by
0800 on the sixth.
But there was nothing about "Schultz," no mention of any Tolliver or
Taliaferro, no unidentified cadaver. I consulted the paper's index again,
punched for next Sunday's schedule of events, found that the only thing
scheduled for noon Sunday was a panel discussion assembled by holo from The
Hague, Tokyo, Luna City, Ell-Four, Golden Rule, Tel Aviv, and Agra: "Crisis in
Faith: The Modem World at the Crossroads." The co-moderators were the president
of the Humanist Society and the Dalai Lama. I wished them luck.
"So far we have zip, zero, nit, swabo, and nothing
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