Zima Blue 齐马蓝 4

<p data-flag="normal" style="color:#333333;font-weight:normal;font-size:16px;line-height:30px;font-family:Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;hyphens:auto;text-align:justify;"><span>"And if I'd declined? Were you supposed to ask someone else?"&nbsp;</span></p><p data-flag="normal" style="color:#333333;font-weight:normal;font-size:16px;line-height:30px;font-family:Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;hyphens:auto;text-align:justify;"><span>"No," the robot said. "But let's face it, Miss Clay. You weren't very likely to turn him down."&nbsp;</span></p><p data-flag="normal" style="color:#333333;font-weight:normal;font-size:16px;line-height:30px;font-family:Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;hyphens:auto;text-align:justify;"><span>As we flew on, the conveyor's shock wave gouged a foaming channel in the sea behind it. I thought of a brush drawn through wet paint on marble, exposing the white surface beneath. I took out Zima's invitation and held it against the horizon ahead of us, trying to decide whether the blue was...