****
"You have to have a name."
"I like Wabbit."
"No. That's just between us. Hasn't anyone ever called you anything but--ooh, I hate this-- slave, or boy?"
"Only in a dream. I once said I would use the name if I freed my world."
"Well, don't you think it's time you dusted it off and stuck it on?"
"Julie, I like this world. Your people have wonderful ways to say things. 'Yo, bro.' 'Hey, dude.' 'What's shakin'?' So many greetings."
"The name."
"I've never said it before."
"And you never will, at this rate. Say it."
"Gallant."
"Yes! Perfect! It fits you. Belongs. See, you did know your name. OK, Gallant, you've watched four days of TV. You understand the difference between fiction and reality and you have a name. Want to meet some people? Don't look so shocked. I'm dying to show you off. You're an incredible blond hunk. Just one thing. Don't dance slow with anyone but me. Two heartbeats would land you in some government research lab. Probably in pieces."
"E.T."
"Yeah, E.T. all the way. Did you figure it out? Why we understand each other?"
"Yes, but I'm afraid to tell you."
"Why?"
"E.T."
"Gallant, I doubt you'll send me running to the gov at this point."
"I'm a telepath."
"Yeah. Makes sense. Why haven't you... read anyone?"
"That would be very impolite!"
"Yep. Gallant. Change clothes. Not here! In the bedroom."
She shook her head and laughed. Carla would never believe she'd stopped a beautiful man from stripping in front of her. She wasn't sure she believed it. It was the innocence. It made him seem like a child.
"Wow! I think I bought those jeans a bit small. They look like they were sprayed on."
"They said, 'shrink to fit,' so I used hot water and air to make them smaller. Perhaps I should have stopped after the first wash, but they didn't look like the ones you wear."
"Caught. Come on, gorgeous, let's go strut our tight pants."
Choice of the Gallant - Paradox Equation I Page 11
