He threw his arms around his wife and kissed her a dozen times, then looked at her grinning, giggling face with the first hint of a suspicion. Exactly what had she been thinking while…?
It was a rich, full organ of a basso voice, perhaps a little off key, perhaps with not enough breath left at the end. But it had an impressive volume, and with training, Carlo Valdez could have been good, very good.
It echoed through Scott’s new house hidden on the wooded hill, a modest mansion as such things went, only thirteen rooms around a great, square Castillian courtyard, but it was unmortgaged. One wall was filled with old LP’s; a collection purchased for peanuts before they became worth millions.
The programmers assured him that yes, Carlo sounded just like Carlo had sounded, but that disappointed them because they could have made it sound better than Carlo had sounded.
But Audion’s new Research Consultant had politely told them where to go with that idea. If you could see me now, Dad, he thought.
“I should never have believed it…” his father sang.
