Twistor Read Online Free Page A

relationship broke up, it became difficult working together afterwards. And if it lasted it was even worse. The conflicting demands of two careers, of retaining scientific objectivity in criticizing each other's work and ideas, and the eventual problem of finding jobs together usually seemed to destroy such pairings within a year or so.
    He curved left at the Laurelhurst intersection and headed north along Sand Point Way. But she was beautiful and enormously talented, very intelligent, and remarkably good with equipment, a natural with the hardware. He couldn't think of anyone else quite like her. And there were a few examples of successful physicist couples . . . David rolled down the window and breathed in the cool night air off the lake as he slowed for the pedestrian crossing at Children's Orthopedic. Watch it there, guy, he thought, and shook his head as if to clear it.
    He continued north along Sand Point Way, a broad street with a tree-studded esplanade, and thought about Sarah and their final quarrel. Was he too self-centered for a lasting relationship? He'd always considered himself to be a nice person. Thoughtful, considerate, even tempered . . . but it seemed that when he became at all involved with a woman, everything eventually exploded in a barrage of accusations about his character flaws. After it happens for the third time, you begin to wonder . . . He continued down Sand Point past the Federal Records Center and the entrance to Magnuson Park.
    He recognized the brown-and-gold sign for the Seventy-O-One condos coming up on the left, his signpost for the place to turn. Downshifting, he clicked the turn indicator and drove uphill into View Ridge, passing large houses with manicured lawns.
    Paul's house stood at a sloping corner near the top of the tall ridge overlooking Lake Washington. It was of traditional northwest design: brown wood tones with stone accents, cedar shake roof with a wide stone chimney, a broad, raised deck, and window walls of Thermopane glass facing on the sweeping view of the lake and the Cascades. The day, begun in overcast, had turned cool and clear with the arrival of darkness. The waxing October moon was not yet up, but a sprinkling of stars to the east was already penetrating the urban sky-glow. David parked by the line of rose bushes in front.
    Paul Ernst was slipping a CD of Bach cantatas into the player just as the doorbell chimed. He heard Melissa and Jeffrey already racing across the slate entryway to the front door, squealing with excitement! He rounded the corner just in time to greet David as Melissa was closing the door. 'David! Welcome!' he said. He accepted the proffered Bordeaux-shaped bottle and held it up for examination. 'Wow! "Appellation Pauillac Contrôlée, Chateau La Tour, 1982!” She was a good year,
oui
?' he asked. 'What, may I ask, is the occasion for this superior product of the vintners' art?'
    Melissa and Jeff swarmed over David as he shrugged off his topcoat. Jeff took the coat and carried it to his father for hanging in the closet. Both children suggested coyly that they might like piggyback rides to the living room.
    'Mmmm! I smell something absolutely wonderful!' said David, raising his voice and projecting in the direction of the kitchen. Then he turned to Paul. 'Yeah, '82 is near the top of the Bordeaux scale,' he said. 'There hasn't been a better year there in the past decade, though the '93s are looking good so far.' He dumped Jeff on the long L-shaped sofa and went back for Melissa. 'I bought it on impulse last week when I thought that tonight we'd be celebrating the final debugging of the new experiment. But, as it turns out, that celebration would be just a bit premature . . . ' He dumped Melissa on the sofa near Jeff and sat down between them, putting one arm around each, giving them a squeeze and heaving an exaggerated sigh of contentment. The children snuggled against him, and Melissa rumpled his hair. Paul detected a note of forced good