High Energy Joy, Dara (best ebook reader for ubuntu txt) 📖
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Stan's face reddened.
"Zanita tells me you're an absolute marvel, Xavier." Auntie's interest in the
child having been satisfied, she quickly moved on to her next victim. In this
case, the prime victim.
"Oh, I wouldn't quite put it that strongly."
False modesty had its moments, Zanita reflected. Too bad this wasn't one of
them.
Auntie leaned toward him in her chair. "Do you really perform healing
ceremonies? I can't tell you how fascinating this subject is to me."
"My dear lady, fascination barely describes it." LaLeche pointedly gazed into
Auntie's eyes as if fascinated to death. But not, Zanita noted, before he gazed
down at the emerald-and-ruby ring gracing her index finger.
Stan's fork clattered against his plate. "You aren't talking about physic
healing, are you?"
"Yes, yes, yes." Auntie waved her hand impatiently. "Get with the program,
Stan."
"Surely you don't subscribe to this quackery, Dr. Evans?"
Everyone turned to stare at Tyber.
Talk about being put on the spot… Zanita grimaced. If Tyber denied it, LaLeche
would become suspicious. If Tyber admited to it, Dr. Mazurski would rapidly lose
respect for his Physicist King. And might spread the word among Tyber's
colleagues. There could be professional ramifications. Zanita bit her lip, sorry
she had placed him in this situation.
If Zanita had been in Tyber's mind at that moment, she would have seen that she
was worrying needlessly. Tyber could care less what his colleagues surmised
about him personally. His work spoke for itself.
However, he sipped his wine slowly before responding, taking the time to come up
with an answer acceptable to everyone. "Surely by now, Stan, you know I always
keep an open mind—to everything."
"Yes, but psychic—"
"Greg says the same thing," Cody piped in. "He says never rule anything out
'cause life is full of possibilities." Tyber could've kissed him.
"Greg appears to be a fountain of wisdom," Mills murmured sarcastically under
her breath. Zanita kicked her under the table.
After dinner, everyone returned to the parlor.
Mills had to make a phone call and had just hung up when Cody found, or rather,
cornered her in the hallway. She looked down at the little boy in surprise.
Cody surveyed her up and down, joining his thumb and forefinger together in the
"okay" sign. "Lady, you are stacked."
Mills' mouth dropped open. "How old did you say you were?"
Cody puffed up his chest proudly. "Six."
"Do you live mostly with your uncle Stan?" Mills asked hopefully.
"Nan, I live with Greg. Me and him is like that." He crossed his little fingers
to demonstrate.
"Hmm." She took his hand, leading him firmly back into the sitting room.
Tyber reached up to the bookcase, handing Stan the book on quantum theory he had
been telling him about.
"Isn't that Arthur Bloomberg working for you?" Stan thumbed distractedly through
the book.
"Yes."
"What happened to him? He was a brilliant mathematician."
Tyber rubbed his ear. "Um, he had a real problem with convergences."
"Oh." Stan watched Mills with a speculative gleam as she entered the room
holding Cody's hand. "Mills seems very nice. Is she married?"
"No, but you are," Tyber responded dryly.
Stan colored. "Oh, no! Not me! I was thinking about my brother… She seems such a
down-to-earth person—just what he needs."
"And why is that?"
"Don't ask! My brother, Gregor, is… is, well, he's something of a
serendipidist."
Tyber pictured a "wild and crazy" Stan Mazurski in his mind, instantly negating
the image. He said diplomatically, "I don't know, Stan, ah—I think sometimes
it's best to leave these things alone."
Stan stroked his chin in thought. "I suppose you're right. Pity, though. Tyber,
are you really serious about this psychic stuff?"
"Between the two of us?" Stan nodded. "Well, who knows? There could be something
to it. But not this guy. Keep it to yourself, will you?"
"Of course I will. I find myself agreeing with you. I wouldn't rule it out
completely—but it doesn't have much to do with what we do."
Tyber just smiled.
"A cat! You got a cat!"
Cody's voice held the awe usually reserved by six-year-old boys for such things
as toy laser guns and interstellar battle-ships. He jumped off the chair, racing
toward Hambone. The tabby's singular eye momentarily widened, but the pirate cat
held his ground.
Zanita guessed the steady flow of tidbits the cat had been getting all day from
the kitchen had just run dry. Knowing this cat as well as she did, she figured
Hambone had probably come in to see if there was anything on the floor to
vacuum. He would tolerate Cody only until he discovered the child was not
carrying any food.
Hambone, being a cat, did exactly the opposite of what she thought.
When Cody put his arms around the great bulk, shoving his face right into the
soft fur, Hambone closed his eye in ecstasy, emitting a strange low sound. One
could easily interpret this odd sound to be a purr. Zanita threw an astonished
look at Tyber.
"In case you haven't guessed, Cody loves cats." Stan addressed the group, a fond
smile gracing his kind face as he watched his nephew hug the animal.
"You can't have one where you live?" There was a sad note in Mills' voice; she
loved cats herself and empathized with Cody. Pets were against the rules in her
apartment house as well.
"It's not 'cause of that." Cody petted Hambone's broad head. "Me and Greg gotta
be free and not tied down to anything. We gotta be able to move where the mood
takes us."
The Creep just dropped another notch in Mills' book.
"What about school?" She turned to Stan. "Surely your brother—" She stopped when
she realized that she was overstepping the bounds of polite inquiry.
Stan just looked at Mills, shaking his head. "Another topic of dissension," he
said quietly to her.
A few moments later, Blooey caught Tyber's attention from the doorway. "There's
a bloke what wants to come aboard, Captain. Says his name is Gregor Mazurski;
should I lower the plank?"
"Gregor? I wonder what my brother's doing here? He told me he would be gone for
the weekend."
Tyber nodded to Blooey. "Open the gate, Blooey."
A short time later Gregor Mazurski entered the room.
He was a surprise to everyone, for Gregor Mazurski was the complete antithesis
of his brother Stan.
Gregor stood about six-foot-three and had a thick head of raven-black hair and
glittering green eyes. He was dressed in black boots, black jeans, and a black
leather jacket. Only a maroon sweater worn under the jacket broke
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