New Year's Eve—2000 A.D.

Начало книги

George Carhew glanced at his watch. The time was 11:21. He looked around at the rest of the guests at the party and said, “Hey! Thirty-nine more minutes and we enter the Twenty-First Century!”

Abel Marsh squinted sourly at Carhew. “How many times do I have to tell you, George, that the new century won’t begin for another year? 2001 is the first year of the Twenty-First Century, not 2000. You’ll have to wait till next year to celebrate that.”

“Don’t be so damned picayune,” Carhew snapped. “In half an hour it’ll be the year 2000. Why shouldn’t it be a new century?”

“Because—”

“Oh, don’t fight over it, boys,” cooed Maritta Lewis, giggling happily. She was a tall brunette with wide eyes and full lips; she wore a clinging synthoplast off-the-bosom blouse and a sprayon skirt that molded her hips and long legs. “It’s whatever century you want it to be, tonight! Twentieth! Twenty-first! Don’t get an ulcer, dad. Live it up!”

Читать дальше →