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Show midriff, her doll-like head to one side in the rest position. The eyes were of a quite incredible roundness. Who in Isaac's worlde designs these things? wondered Dr'Anya. The Deputy AVM's desk was piled high with audio disks, BubbleMemories, and hardcopy. "Thou desirest an audience with Doctor Igor Grant-Sheblem?" she asked. Dr'Anya bowed her head once more. "I do indeed," she said. McCrory turned quickly to the little android beside her and there ensued a rapid-fire exchange of questions answered by questions. "Contacted thou Doctor Grant-Sheblem?" she chirruped. "I contacted Midoctor's office?" the android chirruped back. "Thou didst not get in touch with Midoctor Grant-Sheblem?" "Only his office?" "Where is his Grace, the Good Doctor?" "He is in the Tartars, inspecting moldboard plows?" Dr'Anya closed her eyes. Ah, of a verity!-Dr'Igor's favorite coverup. It made her, of a sudden, most angry, and the more determined to ferret the man out from his hiding place. McCrory turned quickly back to Dr'Anya. "The Good Doctor Grant- Sheblem," she began brightly, "is i n . . . ?" "Nay, I have ears," interrupted Dr'Anya tartly. She turned and, without permission, stalked out the door, up the moving CarpetSweep to the FourthStage, and into Dr'Igor Grant-Sheblem's sanctum. She had forgotten completely about her tormented feet. A male android in blue and rose livery looked up from the transhologram control panel just inside Dr'Igor's door, startled. His housing was of a light bronze alloy and his ears were 38 |