It showed that the amplifier was only capturing at most 30% of the output from Mr.It showed that the amplifier was only capturing at most 30% of the output from Mr. Cross' brain. She pondered her options; at that rate, her device would be considered a limited success, with no practical application. That would prove her former colleagues in Paris had been correct; she would be called a failure, instead of the insightful genius she truly was. Vivienne ran her hand through her jet-black hair. At age 40, she appeared ten years younger; a rigorous combination of diet and exercise kept her feeling young and enabled her to work the long hours her profession demanded without strain. If it weren't for the fact that she wore frumpy black glasses, she could easily be considered quite attractive, with very soft green eyes that appeared gray under certain light, and a sharp, very individual, but striking face. The glasses were a concession she had made early in her career; it discouraged her more -- glandularly- driven colleagues from unprofessional behavior. She tapped impatiently on the video uplink (VU) console. One of these days, she would find a faster image enhancement algorithm. Finally, a heavily digitized view from 7:30 that morning appeared. Damn. She had had a hard enough time convincing that Weston bitch [Well, she certainly got her just desserts-AW] to increase the output enough to bring the VU online, but that piddling 5% didn't do a damned thing for image quality. Now Weston was gone, Carter was gone, and they wouldn't be back for at least two more days... Dr. Moriat went to the project control center. No one was there. She had known all along that having a male/female tech pair assigned to the third shift was going to be trouble. |