Sandora and I spent most of the afternoon at Tawell's. By the time we had gotten a clear picture of the progress on several major projects, it was nearly evening. Seeing that there was nothing for them to do, Anses and Harlan had already said their goodbyes and left. It was only when Sandora said she was hungry that I noticed it was almost dinner time, so we bade farewell as well.
When we came out of Tawell's office, we ran straight into Tawell's Mass Projections, Mass Projections, and even more Mass Projections. Each of them led a research team or project office, wandering through every floor of the Research Center. They could practically be considered a scenic feature of the institute. As Sandora and I headed outside, we kept running into Tawells wearing various badges and greeting the same face over and over—sometimes we greeted the same person twice, and she would even enthusiastically remind us. No matter how long I got used to it, the feeling was still particularly bizarre. Tawell was not the only one who used Mass Projections for multithreaded work; senior researchers all had that ability. But the only one who used Mass Projections on such an insane scale was that Glasses Girl. After greeting seventeen or eighteen Tawells in the hallway, I finally could not take it anymore. I grabbed one of them and offered a suggestion. "Tawell, I've been out of your office for several minutes now, and I'm still within your line of sight. Don't you have anything to say?"
Tawell-number-who-knew-what, whom I had suddenly grabbed, looked confused. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"
"You should learn to relax once in a while," I patiently advised her. "Even Harlan has time to sit in Silvia's little shop. Sandora has started watching TV