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dark hair in a short, sophisticated style. The wheelchair was replaced with a yellow armchair that floated a few feet off the ground.

"Sorry about the mess," Burell said, moving toward a screen on the far wall.

The apartment was about as different from Elric's simple, Spartan house as it could be. The living room/kitchen was large but crowded. An overstuffed couch and several armchairs were scattered about the room, covered with boxes, newspapers and magazines, electronics, tubes, and other unidentifiable items. Jammed in among the normal living room furniture were various pieces of sophisticated scientific equipment. He recognized a muon microscope, an image processor, a genetic sequencer, a portable magnetic resonance imager, gain amplifiers, and a compact particle accelerator. Boxes and piles of materials had encroached onto the floor, so that Galen had to follow a circuitous path to get from one end of the room to the other. The one hint that anything had once been done to decorate the room came from the colorful tapestries hanging on the walls. Galen realized Isabelle must have woven them, as she must have made the tapestry on which they'd picnicked and the robe for Elric.

Galen always kept his room in perfect order. He was uncomfortable with the disorder. The restless energy of the implants increased his unease.

Isabelle came up behind him. "You'll stay in my room. It's the first door." She pointed toward a narrow hall to their left. Galen found a path that led to the hall. Isabelle followed.

The room was a small island of order amongst the chaos. A loom took up the far half of the room. A simple bed covered by a knit afghan ran along the wall to the right, and along the side wall were several shelves with skeins of different colors and materials. The
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