Dr. Lamco hesitates. There’s still time, he thinks.
He presses fingers into his belly and feels the comfortable sensation of churning void. He wills it. He makes a mental note to take something—a pear octoblet—from the Refriger. He feels a slight disorientation—a whirring in his ears that soon disappears as his thoughts come clear, and quick. There is a little static in his head, but that is natural in 2064.
Soon enough he can see the world clearly again outside his bay window: the sky is blue, the clouds fluffy white—just the way the Day was meant to be. It had been so ordered: the NØ355287H Meeting of the Elders had seen to that.
The Minister of Pharmagriculture had insisted on rain during the Meet. It was broadcast three days ago through the ABS-CNN MonitorNet on the HoloVision, a st
