THE COSMIC COMPUTER

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carefully and slowly. Finally, he zipped up the short waist-length
jacket and went out.

His father and mother and Flora were at the table, and the serving-robot
was floating around a few inches off the floor, steam trailing from its
coffee urn and its tray lid up to offer food. He greeted everybody and
sat down at his place, and the robot came around to him. His mother had
selected all the things he'd been most fond of six years ago:
shovel-snout bacon, hotcakes, starberry jam, things he hadn't tasted
since he had gone away. He filled his plate and poured a cup of coffee.

"You don't want to bother coming out to the dig with me this morning, do
you?" his father was saying. "I'll be back here for lunch, and we'll go
to the meeting in the afternoon."[Pg 26]

"Meeting?" Flora asked. "What meeting?"