Jadiver objected to being the greatest influence for good on Venus ... because what was good for Venus was bad for Jadiver!
n the containers. He shook his head in despair. Every amateur always did this.
He stood up. "You've got the worst kind," he said.
She shrugged. "They told me it was the best."
"That depends. There are two kinds, and this one does look more real than the other. In fact, for a time this actually becomes a part of your body, a pseudo-flesh. But it's quite dangerous."
"The other kind is just a cosmetic, isn't it?"
"That's right, but--"
"Then I'm not worried," she said, tossing her head. "The way I see it, it's dangerous not to use the best disguise we can get."
She might be right. At least he'd warned her, and as long as she had the facts straight, the decision was hers to make.
Jadiver peeled off his jacket and slid into a protective smock. "Ask Burlingame to come in. This is going to be delicate, you know."
The gamin grinned. "I've never been overly concerned about Vicon, and he knows I can take care of myself." She stepped behind a screen and prese
An absorbing and moody mystery of the future. A robot designer who is down on his luck on Venus takes to providing synthetic skin disguises to criminals. He figures out the police have planted an unremovable wiretap in his body, and suddenly he's popular with everyone in a very unhealthy way.
Nice characters, good plotting, and imaginative concepts.
A make up artist who applies semi-permanent skin (usually to disguise criminals) is given a new synthetic skin himself after an "autobath accident scalds him." But the new skin has another agenda than just acting like a protective pelt. How do you escape your own double crossing skin?