N. & I. turned out to be a big room, somewhat circular, very high-ceilinged, with banks of cyb controls covering the upper walls. Narrow passageways, like spokes, led off in several directions. There was an information desk in the center of the room. I looked that way and my heart went into free fall. There was a girl at the information desk. An exceptionally attractive girl. She was well within the limits of acceptable standard, and her features were even enough, and her hair a middle blonde--but she had something else. Hard to describe. It was a warmth, a buoyancy, a sense of life and intense animation. It didn't exactly show; it radiated. It seemed to sing out from her clear complexion, from her figure, which even a tunic could not hide, from everything about her. And if I were to state my business, I would have to tell her my name. I almost backed out right then. I stopped momentarily. And then common sense took hold and I realized that if I were to go through with this thing, here would be only the first of a long series of embarrassments and discomforts. It had to be done. I walked up to the desk and the girl turned to face me, and I could have sworn that a faint smile crossed her lips. It was swift, like the shadow of a bird across one of the lawns in one of the great parks topside. Very non-standard. Yet I wasn't offended; if anything, I felt suddenly and disturbingly pleased. "What information is desired?" she asked. Her voice was standard--or was it? Again I had the feeling of restrained warmth. I used colloquial. "I want to get the dope on State Serial designations, how they're assigned and so forth. Especially how they might be changed." She put a handsteno on the desk top and said, "Name? Address? Post?" I froze. I stood there and stared at her. She looked up and said, "Well?" "I--er--no post at present. N/P status." Her fingers moved on the steno. I gave her my address and she recorded that. Then I paused again. She said, "And your name?" I took a deep breath and told her. I didn't want to look into her eyes. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't find a decent excuse to. I saw her eyes become wide and noticed for the first time that they were a warm gray, almost a mouse color. I felt like laughing at that irrelevant observation, but more than that I felt like turning and running. I felt like climbing and dashing all over the walls like a frustrated cat and yelling at the top of my lungs. I felt like anything but standing there and looking stupid, meeting her stare-- * * * * * She looked down quickly and recorded my name. It took her a little longer than necessary. In that time she recovered. Somewhat. "All right," she said finally, "I'll make a search."