"That's true. He wasn't as tall as all that, though. Certainly more in terms of presence than in terms of actual stature." She leafs through the books, and upon returning to the library proper stands in the light of the microfiche to see if having the color from the photograph projected onto her feels any different, allows her to be a little further from the black-and-white American "Wendy" that this place has cast her as.
"It appears not. Good eye." She plucks the note from Merton's hand. "This group of us, all us slaves to the Jorgmund...do we tend to cooperate, or are we a relatively disorganized unit?"
Because if everyone can be trusted to alert the others when they've explored somewhere or found something, the way they'll report this back to their communicators will be very different.
Rowena takes the colored photograph off the microfiche and tucks it into her purse.
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"It appears not. Good eye." She plucks the note from Merton's hand. "This group of us, all us slaves to the Jorgmund...do we tend to cooperate, or are we a relatively disorganized unit?"
Because if everyone can be trusted to alert the others when they've explored somewhere or found something, the way they'll report this back to their communicators will be very different.
Rowena takes the colored photograph off the microfiche and tucks it into her purse.