Яппаньки вам,уважаем(ый)(ая)(ое)!

looked over his shoulder again.

"I've been directed to get daily reports from you on your progress."

"They are interested."

She released her head.

"What if you come for your daily report at..."

- she checked her watch -

"... six o'clock?"

Chang smiled.


Anna made what John called her monkey face, gritting her teeth and pulling her lips back.


Chang stood.

"Dr. Sheridan, I'll expect your report at five o'clock."

"And I'll be pleased to give it to you, Dr. Chang."

She had the computer retrieving business listings for telepaths before he'd left the room.


Terrence Hilliard, certified telepath, arrived at three o'clock. He was a tall, slim black man who wore a fashionable olive-green suit and, of course, black gloves. He presented his credentials, certifying him P5. All the telepaths she had met were slim, Anna mused. She wondered if it was part of their training.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice."

"Not a problem," Terrence said.

"I had a cancellation this morning, and you fit right in."

He had a lovely voice, deep, with a lilting, Irish accent. She took him to the isolab window and showed him the mouse inside, explaining her experience with it.

"I'm hoping that it may have been designed to be controlled telepathically. Or at least that some telepathic contact may activate its own internal mechanisms."

"This is quite unusual," Terrence said.

"I've never attempted telepathic contact with an object before. "

"You probably think I'm crazy, right?"

Terrence smiled, and it was the kind of smile that lit up his face, the kind of smile John had. God, she missed him. In eighteen hours she'd be on her way to see him, and for three weeks she hoped never to see the outside of
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