Abby looked at the bed. “Do you have a mat?”

“A mat. To wipe your feet on? I’m sure your shoes are fine.”

“No, a straw mat—to sleep on.”

“A…straw mat.” Lauren glanced at Sabin, not hiding her frustration. “No,” she answered, “we would not have a straw mat. But I’m sure you’ll find your bed quite comfortable.” She turned and walked out the door. “Good night, dear.”

Sabin looked at Abby. “I’m sorry about Lauren. She’s under a lot of stress these days. Her campaign. We’re—I’m glad you’re here. I’ll let you get some sleep. See you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

Abby listened to his footsteps on the stairs. She sat on the bed and looked around the room. It had beauty but no warmth. She pulled the comforter onto the floor and lay on it. Within a minute she was asleep.

Damien Cleary sat at Bryson Nichols’s table and scanned the Library’s clientele. Nichols chuckled at his associate’s surveillance. “Damien, have you ever spotted someone in here that didn’t belong?”

Cleary finished scanning the room. “It’s hard to say. Why do you bother having all these characters in this place of yours, Nichols? It increases the security risk.”

“I trust my security man. Besides, sitting in here by myself would be a dreadful bore.”

Cleary motioned toward the VR patrons. “Yes, these gentlemen are quite entertaining.”

The bartender arrived and placed Cleary’s drink in front of him. Nichols signaled him to bring some cigars.

“You think history began with the Internet, Damien.”

“No, civilization began with the Internet.”

Nichols shook his head. “No appreciation of the progress we’ve made. Ten thousand years ago we were hunters-gatherers being savaged by saber-toothed tigers.”

“Maybe you should have a head on the wall here.”

“Indeed.” Nichols sipped his vermouth and rum. “So, speaking of conversation pieces, what did you think of my talk the other night?”

“Brilliant. Just as I expected.”

“What was the reaction among those around you?”

“Incredulous. Astounded. You had them in your back pocket, Nichols. Or, rather, you have them in your back pocket.”

Nichols smiled. “I must say, even I didn’t expect such a successful launch. Have you seen all the publicity?”

“Of course. You’re headline all over the world.” Cleary leaned forward. “Nichols, I’ve doubted you in the past. I always thought you should take the wraps off this thing sooner. But you were right. And now, within ten years, the whole planet will be transhuman.”

Nichols laughed. “Ten years? I’d be happy with fifty.”

The two men’s eyes locked, and they exchanged a knowing look of achievement and triumph. Cleary raised his glass. “To fifty years.”

Nichols followed suit. “To fifty years, my friend.”

They drank slowly and savored the moment quietly. Cleary finally broke the silence. “So we have a potential glitch.”