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. Things.
She lined up our chattels-duffel bag, bundle, large case, small case, her
purse, my cane, bonsai tree-and looked at them. "I think I can work out a way,"
she said, "for us to handle all of them at once."
"I don't see how," I objected, "with only two hands apiece. I had better
order a freight cage."
"If you wish, Richard."
"I will." I turned toward her terminal... and stopped. "Uh-"
Gwen gave full attention to our little maple tree.
"Uh-" I repeated. "Gwen, you're going to have to loosen up. I'll slide out
and find that nearest terminal booth, then come back-"
"No, Richard."
"Huh? Just long enough to-"
"No, Richard."
I heaved a sigh. "What's your solution?"
"Richard, I will agree to any course of action that does not involve us
being separated. Leave everything inside this compartment and hope that we can
get back in-that's one way. Place everything just outside the door and leave it,
while we go to order a freight cage-and call Mr. Middlegaff-that's another way."
"And have it all disappear while we are gone. Or are there no two-legged
rats in this neighborhood?" I was being sarcastic. Every habitat in space has
its nightwalkers, invisible habitants who cannot afford to remain in space but
who evade being returned to Earth. In Golden Rule I suspect that the management
spaced them when they caught them
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