Runaway Home

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He found himself staring at her, wondering whether the dim shadows visible under her eyes were natural, or whether natural and dark shadows had been incompletely obscured. Her face was delicate and regular, as if there had been some high-class adjustments made on it by a well-paid surgeon. Her whole body, for that matter, looked thoroughly adjusted and very pleasant indeed.

Deitrich was fascinated.

As if some extrasensory link had been established, she glanced abruptly over at him; and as abruptly looked away again, with a faint coloring of her pale, blond skin. Then she walked quickly on past and was lost in the crowd.

Deitrich’s gaze moved back to the stiff, watchful immigrants that he had brought in with him. They stood in a tight knot, staring around at the glittering room, their eyes attentive and wary.

It was too noisy, with the port customs officers moving through the throng, shouting and trying to keep from losing their particular charges. The charges, however, chattered among themselves and seemed more interested in breaking away to watch the moving kaleidoscope of pictures that blossomed on all sides, heralding the wondrous marvels that might be purchased or enjoyed on this singularly fortunate planet.

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