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level. "Lot of guests. They seem to be driving in and out of all the entrances."
"It's a popular hotel. Tourists come here and there's a lot of partying and gaiety. I used to think that if I
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could only live in a place like this, I'd be happy. Now I can afford to there's little else to spend my
wages on and I find it isn't as I imagined."
"Because of the ring?" Then he wished he hadn't asked.
She seemed not to hesitate. "That, andmy changing values. You'll find out what I mean eventually. It's
going to be hard for a while, though."
"It seems to me I've been warned about that before," he said, and smiled. He hoped nothing turned out
to be harder than the park initiation of several days ago.
He was driving past rows of doors on the outside. There was a carport for every apartment and a
parking space by every entrance. The floors were divided into sections and every quarter-spiral had an
additional parking lot. He could see petite shopping sections on each floor, and even crowded cafes and
junior Vicinc outlets. It was a town within a city, lacking only the extremes of McKissic estates and
Gunnartown filth.
"You drive well, Jeff. Extremely well for someone who's never traveled a spiral before."
"The driving is easy. It's the looking that gets challenging."
"You mean you find the sights distracting. Don't you want to know how I know this is all new to you?"
"How?"
"Your eyes, Jeff. They're trying to drink in everything. I know the experience. You really don't remember
such hotels from your boyhood?"
He shook his head. "I never stayed at one. I suppose if I had it would have been quite plain, though.
Father didn't go much for flash. Mother did, though the two of them were always arguing functionality
versus decorativity." He continued talking, telling what he remembered of a life that was now so dim he
might only have read about it.
He followed her guiding indications down the twelfth floor corridor. The apartments in the deeper
section were not as fancy as those fronting the spiral, and many did not have individual carports.Tough
for them! he thought.
"Jeff, my room!"
He slowed and pulled into the parking cubby before her door. He got out and walked around the car as
she stepped onto the carpeting that served as a sidewalk. He wondered just what came next. He was
certainly out of touch with this world.
"Jeff, would you like to see my apartment?"
"Iam curious...."
She touched a coded key to the recognition-panel and pushed the door open as it unlocked. As they
entered, a shrill whistle started from the phone: the sound that came on when the normal blinker was not
answered within a reasonable time and the caller was determined.
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"Oh dear!" Alice said.
Jeff looked about the apartment as she answered the phone. The furniture was attractively curved and
comfortable, and there were art reproductions on the walls. Compared to his simple room, this was the
height of luxury.
He was thumbing through a book of poetry he had picked off a black glass table as he wandered back
to Alice. She was still talking. On the screen was the face of a woman a few years older with
peppermint-stick dyed hair and artificially heightened red eyebrows and blue lips. She looked past Alice,
and he tried to step out of range.
Too late. With gleeful dismay the woman exclaimed: "So that's why you can't come. Alice, I'm surprised!
And you a ringer!"
"Please, Darlene!" Alice said, but the woman went right on talking.
"That man with you isn't that yes, itis the one we saw on threevee last week! I'd know him
anywhere. What a spectacle! Delightful! Yes, I think youmust introduce him. And you know, Alice, I'm
going to bevery hurt if you don't... you wouldn't want that, would you, dear?"
Alice stepped aside. "Jeff Font, meet Darlene Wilson. Darlene has the apartment across the way, Jeff."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Wilson." This time the ring responded negatively; he was not pleased.
But he couldn't insult her, either. He was damned whatever he said.
"It'sMiss Wilson," the woman said. "I've been divorced for ages! Only it's not Miss Wilson to you and
Alice it's Darlene."
She should know that his words were only a formality, not intended literally... yes, the pain faded. He
moved his ring-hand out in front of the poetry book so that she could not miss it.
"Darlene," Alice said, completing the introduction, "this is Jeff Font. He works for McKissic
Gyromotors, as I do."
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