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Sylvie, Kellen said. He was standing in the doorway, as still as a slab. Good evening. Evening, she said. She stood tall now, maybe a little bit on tiptoe, she was a few millimeters above her normal height. We need your assistance, Kellen said. The rest of the team is waiting inside. Of course. I'll see you later. Without a look back at me, she entered the building. Kellen continued to stare at me. Nothing ever fazed him. Conditions, settings, situations -- he always behaved exactly the same, with that stilted perfection of his. Like the control in an experiment. Everything satisfactory? he asked. No. My friend's missing. Mmm-hmm. True. Superfluous question on my part. Thank you for your help. Why don't you return to your domicile? We'll contact you should we need further assistance.  |
Wait. Kellen. Yes? Should I be worried? That produced a response from him -- he tilted his head to the left a bit. That's cryptic of you. My non-cryptic answer: I don't know. Good night. He pivoted and reentered the building. Some-thing rattled close by, and I whirled. It was the food cart, rolling away of its own accord down the street, shutting down for the night. It was now close to four, the time trains were at their lowest frequency. I waited at the platform for an unheard-of five minutes before the cross-town train arrived. During that interval, I executed a quick scan of my surroun- dings, for I was now on full alert. A man was surveilling me. He was being very circumspect and subtle about it, by all appearances he was  |
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