“Pardon us, Mr. Caldhe girls said in unison.

    “Never mind. It’s just a little joke. And call me Cad, please.”

    “If you insist, Cad,” tereo, retreating backhe gaping door.

    culturing air esses in vats. tice  unaly  a ty-one year-old om made in six mont of Fouler’s fantasies. Only o t basic stereotypes about beauty. And t clicked. ts, Jackman and Jones. tical black and  of a decision made in a lab. s oaff. t ’s obsession o. t otally unnatural laug Fouler  t, like el abandoned in the woods.

    Cald tried to reflect back on everyt  ty-four  aying in Glyprailer.  of es would .

    tempo of ely gone up a notcter or  taking  about te aircraft bound for s of t ty-four oo complex to digest and  left alone to  in due course. ill pissed off about w Fouler  o him.

    ared outside t engineers fitted tal slingss belo’s fuselage. Cald like  before. t rumble as tempo rose until tarted to s started moving upively gripped t of . ts snapping and t s straigo the sky, bound for hong Kong.

    leveled out, Caldo t appeared Ms. Levin ill in tricted access. ts en. Bot Jones landed an uppercut to Agent Jackman’s virtual ja’s o tual canvass. A referee materialized out of noo table, and began to count Agent Jackman’s boxer avatar doo get up but it o no avail. Agent Jones’ boy -soaked in tared at him.

    Agent Jones eased  of t in t s-soaked s.

    Cald o be a long flig as o be friendly.

    “First time to  to sound casual.

    “No, but t Jackman  app