The coffee Rai served up had been sitting in the bottom of a pot of a particularly strong brew. Sao felt his cup could have stood up on its own and strangled him.

A little past noon, Rai announced unprovoked that he felt like having a salad at their usual spot and so Sao found himself walking through the dry winter chill to spend lunchtime under Zen’s worried glances.

“Just having a seltzer today?” she asked.

“That’s it for now, thanks. I've been feeling a bit under the weather.”

“I thought you looked out of it,” Rai said. As if he’d totally forgotten what happened that morning, he managed to look somewhat concerned.

Sao had suspected that Rai’s choice of restaurant had been a cover story to interrogate Zen for further details, or otherwise shame Sao for his disappointing performance on her behalf. But what had he done to warrant such offense? He hadn’t stood up and left, been improperly snide or cruel. He’d been sleepy, why the sudden reaction to it? If he were being more specific, Rai’s ramble and subsequent obtuse ‘puzzle’ was more of a reaction to his underlying attitude. Had he not been grateful enough for the videos? It had not been entirely clear. But sat behind a laminated menu, Rai’s tension seemed to have completely dissipated.

“So it’s just salads and fizzy water for the boys today?” Zen clicked her tongue and set an arm on her hip. “Going for a survivalist winter, are you? Sure you wouldn’t like something warm, even just to take back home?”

“Can I have an iced coffee?” Rai asked. He gave Sao an ambivalent wide-eyed stare.

“Sure. Don’t hold back on account of me, you know it’s my friend covering the bill,” Sao said.

“That’s all.” This was directed at Zen.

She smiled at them mercifully and simply nodded. Rai stared at his gloves until she had left, and as if on cue his brow began to furrow. “You wanted to say something to her before she left.”

“Nothing immediate. I was just wondering how she was feeling. Do you think she looked a little… I may just be seeing things, could just be the weather. Her usual energy isn’t quite there.”

“Another friend might have gone missing.”

It took quite a bit to wear down Sao’s patience, but that took out a decent chunk. “Why would you say that?”

Rai was giving him that low glare, as if he were blind or inept. Again, again, it was always that.

“Come on, man,” Sao laughed. “You know I’m not entirely with it, sick or not. I haven’t been doing too well today in particular.”

Rai ended his long look nodded towards the window to their right. “There’s a new face on the walls.”

Straight across the street, gray now that the autumn leaves had been forcibly driven out, there was florist and a furniture shop, with the slim metal door of an apartment building in-between. On each of the entrances there was posted a fresh white sheet of paper. At the distance, Sao couldn’t make out any detail clearly but he knew what to expect. A photo, a title, date, description, contact us with any information, please. One of Oliver’s posters remained on the wall beside the apartment, already yellowing with age. The realization sank into his bones like ice.

He shifted to the edge of the bench, rattling the cutlery. “I’m going to go get one.”

“Sit down. Do it later.”

“Are you still upset about what happened back at the office, that I ‘forgot’ to carry Oliver’s poster with me at all times? I apologize again, if that's the-”

Rai’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t want you waving one of those things around in here. And what makes you think that’s the problem?”

No argument to be had, but Rai was prepared for a standoff. Sao only had to consider this for a moment: it was a bad idea to engage in a staring contest with someone who didn’t even shut their eyes at night. Sao slid back into the booth.

“I took notice of the name already. Locke T____. Looks a lot like Oliver, one or two years younger if my guess is right, probably pretty well-off. Hair not dyed, though.”

Sao laughed, but it came out a bit more like a groan. “You think the same person or… thing might have taken both of them?”

“I don’t know enough about either case yet.”

Yet.

“I can’t believe it.” Sao rubbed his eyes. “Do disappearances usually occur so close together? Related or not. I know they happen all the time, but… well, I didn’t know so much before today. Now I feel terrible not noticing now. It really is a problem.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to notice if it wasn’t your job,” Rai said. “But when it comes to the posters, then yeah, these two are a particular kind of case.”

They looked out at the distant papers, fluttering slightly in the cold. Rai was squinting. How good is his eyesight? Sao wondered. He's on the computer all day.

“Did you notice that the posters for Mr. Oliver G________ have stopped appearing? That’s not too unusual on its own, but after such a huge initial run -- what do you think?”

Again with the questions. Does he ever stop? “Maybe they were put off by the rain. Depressing to see all that hard work just washed out. Or they had to get back to work. Last Monday was a last ditch effort.”

Rai bit the side of his mouth and regarded Sao like a talking zoo animal. When he replied, he at least tried for sympathy. “That’s generous. Don’t get offended by this. I’m pretty sure it was his company that put out the posters. Ever since Chimera did it, it's become policy for almost every major corp. Company posters don’t usually mention occupations or ‘last seen’ locations to keep the attention off themselves. I cheated a little, digging around the city registry, but you initially told me that you heard he was educated, and well-off. That was on the mark. He was actually a contractor for an architecture firm over in the city. His family don’t live in the Core Cities, and to be honest, it seems like his friends didn’t notice he went missing. The company shot out some posters, hoping he would turn up fast, but when he didn’t they probably got a replacement. Whatever happened, it seems that nobody cares anymore. About the posters, that is. He’s still missing.”

Sao said nothing.

“This new guy, Locke, could be the same. He’s probably not as much of a keystone in his company, since there aren’t so many posters, He probably wasn’t as popular either. Oliver's photo likely came from an office friend, the wording, maybe he was sleeping with the secretary. Locke's is a little more canned ID photo, bullet point list. Anyway, the poster quality isn't what matters. Two high-end office guys happened to disappear within a couple of weeks, so we get a flood on the walls, and things look worse than they are.”

Zen started to approach with their food.

Rai's words dried the air. Sao’s patience had about run its course, but he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He half wanted to dispute Rai, but the thought of debating aesthetics and affection on a missing persons poster with such a stiff put that impulse to rest. Now he just felt well and truly exhausted.

“I still wouldn’t regard it a good situation,” he murmured.

“True,” Rai mused over his salad, “I need to know more.” He turned, this time in the other direction, catching Zen in the headlights. “Hey, Zen. How much do you know about this Locke T____ who just went missing?”

Sao watched in horror as her steady smile froze midway through the words ‘Caesar Salad’. Her lips shook slightly, and then her expression crumbled. She hauled up an explanation, but only managed to vocalize a few indistinct sounds. Sao then saw incoming: part 2 of a multi-car pileup, as Rai’s entire body froze. You could practically hear his brain spewing up more bad ideas. He backed against the window and stammered out the beginnings of condolences, but, Sao noted, did not excuse any of what he’d said.

Sao pulled himself forward. “You don’t have to answer him, Zen. He’s just...” Digging up an excuse for Rai took some mental hurdles, as if he weren’t already on verge of falling. “We’re investigating disappearances around here. He’s been really deep into the case, snapping at anyone and everything, because, you know, I think it’s the sleep schedule. Rai, come on, I can’t take my eye off you, huh?”

“I’m trying to-”

“Just a moment,” Sao sat flatly. Rai waited.

Zen had not quite burst into tears, but her face had reddened slightly. Sao patted her back gingerly, he certainly didn't want any hands coming back at him in a panic. Or even in relief. “Perhaps we should talk some other time.”

“No, no, sorry for the trouble, it’s too weird. I was just…” Zen gave a long, loud sigh and collapsed onto the bench beside him.

They waited. Rai was itching to barge in with his interrogation but Sao’s firm refusal had put him off. Teeth set, his eyes skipped restlessly from one end of the room to the other, to his untouched plate, to the street outside.

To Sao’s surprise, Zen raised her head abruptly, pushing hair behind her ear. She was sporting an apologetic grin, levelled at Rai. “You really don’t miss anything, do you?”

“I try not to.”

“Why do I feel I'm being left out of something?” Sao asked.

Neither gave an answer; Rai remained still and Zen scoffed, though it could have been directed at either of them. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket. “Let me know if the manager’s coming. He gets upset if he sees us ‘playing around’ on phones.”

“This is related to police business,” Rai attempted to reassure in the flattest possible tone.

“I know, but it’s like not everyone cares, right? There are people going missing every day, all the time, it’s hard to care unless you know them. Actually, I was more surprised than anything when you said you were looking into this.”

Rai snuck a sidelong glance at Sao. True, there hadn’t been much formal investigation in the morning’s events, but at least he hadn’t told a complete lie.

“It’s killing me now that you said it, but please don’t get mad, okay? I wasn’t sure if I should have told the police this earlier, in case it made them cancel the whole thing and stop looking for Oli.”

Rai leaned in. “You found him?”

“I don’t know. It’s too weird. It still sounds like nobody can get in touch with him, but just two nights ago, this happened.”

She turned the phone screen towards their waiting faces. A few minutes before midnight, Icey (spelled with a ‘e’ it seemed) had sent her a message:

Look who I found!

Accompanying the message was a photograph. A dark, crowded room, in the midst of some raucous conversation. Icey had gone heavy on the flash, each block of skin burned vivid orange, but she had her (somewhat shaky) sights on one in particular. Slightly to the right, at an angle that could have been inferred as artistic, there stood a tall, broad shouldered figure with an arm up on one of the tall black lounge tables. The shadows were hard and distorted blue from the lights of the bar, but with that sprightly streaked hair, and face in almost the exact same angle as the missing persons poster...

“That’s Oliver,” Sao said. “Was this really taken just this week?”

“Wait, wait, can I take a closer look at that?” Rai asked. His gloved hands were already outstretched.

Zen didn’t let him grab the phone from her hands just yet. “You’ve already guessed the weirdest part, haven’t you? I wouldn’t have thought anything more, but lucky for me, Icey took a second, from another angle.”

A second photo was pulled up, timestamped one minute later. Icey had circled around the lounge area and now caught Oliver with his companion in full view. A second man was sitting on one of the tall stools that matched the table, elbows on the glass, smiling easily. Also brown haired, a little smaller, maybe lighter. Better dressed too, Sao noted, with the flicker of a gold chain around his neck. Perhaps it was just the lighting but Oliver had picked a pretty distasteful mustard shirt for his semi-formal ensemble. His conversation partner looked like one of the city’s young professionals, while Oliver, who had should have been in the same category, admittedly looked like someone who hadn’t been to work in a week and had forgotten how to match his shirt to his pants.

Of course, Rai got to the point a lot quicker.

“He was with Locke. Our second missing man.”

“Yeah. It’s too messed up. What do you think happened?” Zen nodded. She surrendered her phone to Rai and slouched back, lost at how to continue.

“Two days ago, midnight. That matches exactly with the date on Locke's posters. Did your friend manage to talk to the two of them, maybe ask Oliver how he’d been doing? Did you hear anything more?”

Rai was holding her phone, pouring the full brunt of his focus onto the second photo, but Sao noted he did not touch anything more than the outer edge of the casing.

“Icey mentioned they said hi, but then Oliver brushed her off and I guess they left, since she stopped taking pictures? Maybe she got introduced to Locke, but we hadn’t met him before so he might not have talked to her. Don’t think she got his name, but I just don’t know.” Zen shook her head, but the shaking rolled into a bitter shrug. “I should have gone that night, said I had work the next day but I always do, it was just for some reason I didn’t. Should have gone. I’ve never said that, I usually think I should be out a little less but look at what I miss.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Rai said quickly.

He placed the phone onto the table. Sao moved closer to his side. “Icey wasn’t alone, right? Was Marina there?”

“Yeah, maybe a few others… but Marina was definitely there. I didn’t get to talk to her yet, but around the same time she told me Icey had these pictures I should really see. She wanted to go to the police right away, but...”

“This Marina might have more information?” Rai asked.

Sao nodded. “She's sharp. I only met her once, but remember, she’s the one who wanted to meet you.”

Apparently this had not fit Rai’s criteria for an important memory. “Any extra help would be appreciated. It doesn’t matter when.” He gave this last claim some thought. “The earlier the better, though.”

“I’ll send you the pictures. Would you like them too?” She turned to Sao. “Only if it’s alright with the boss, but you know...”

“Send him whatever you want. We are both involved in this investigation now.”

Sao felt both of them give him pointed looks. Rai’s look was practically radiating you got us into this mess and now you’re going to eat it. Zen’s was a little softer, and inscrutable. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. He wondered if she was going to try to touch his face.

He picked up his fork.

Zen sighed and leaned heavily on the table. “Sorry, I’m just remembering what we said to you that night, when we saw the posters. Before they all got washed away.”

“I don’t recall, so no offense taken? If any. I’m the one who forgot after all,” Sao laughed. It was a minor struggle. The heating had turned his lettuce soggy.

Seeing Sao begin lunch set Rai to mauling his salad as well.

Zen picked at a dent in the table. “We joked about it, but now that this Locke guy’s come up, it really, well, don’t you think--” She turned to Rai, almost accusatory. “Don’t they remind you a little of Sao here?”

“What?” Rai stuttered with a mouthful of croutons.

“I could just be going nuts. It’s been a lot to take in, but please just... be careful.”

“Hold on, you think this all means this guy is going to go missing?”

“Yeah, why would anyone want me hanging off their back at any time,” Sao laughed. “There's no fun or money to be had there.”

“Marina reminded me about it, like only this morning, she saw the Locke posters on her way to work too. The posters around here, they have a pattern. You must see it. It’s always men. That’s weird, right? For as long as I can remember, it’s always been women who were ‘at risk,’ they tell the girls that all the time at school. Women, children, the poor, transients, hitchhikers, and ones that won’t have anyone looking for them. The police said it themselves! But all these guys are adults, they look pretty well-to-do and you wouldn’t think they’re easy to grab off the street. I only knew Oliver but…” Zen twisted a few strands of her reddish hair. “Marina’s not dumb, she wouldn’t have brought the idea up again if she wasn’t really worried.”

“If we’re just looking at posters, then of course it had to be families or - er - companies who have money to search,” Sao offered. “The usual pattern is probably still going on behind the scenes, there just isn’t money to print posters.”

“Companies are printing those? I never suspected that...”

Rai had placed down his utensils.

Zen refused to let it go. “Look, just be careful. Call any of us if you need to, like if you’re headed home or see someone suspicious...”

“I’m surprised you and your friends came up with those connections,” Rai said.

“Does it sound crazy? We can’t prove it, I know how important the proof is. But at least for peace of mind, can you make sure he looks out for himself?”

“You don't sound crazy. You’re right in that Oliver and Locke, if he really is similar, are not the type of vict- people who’d be usual targets. If you look at all the disappearances in the whole city, they are so widespread you get a few upper-middle class guys, of course, but all in one area it isn’t expected - I did notice most of the posters in the last ten months have been of a similar type... I doubt all the other missing men look as similar as the recent two, but you could be onto something.”

Zen went stony, unsure whether to thank him or finally crack with his confirmation.

Rai scrutinized Sao as though he might be responsible for all this. “What I don’t understand is how Sao fits that pattern, why you think he’s going to be next.”

“Can you say that with a little less assurance?” Sao laughed weakly.

“Okay, this part is going to sound really loopy,” Zen said. “But I’ll put it like this. Don’t you think he looks… kind of… sort of like them?”

“His hair is different. And skin.” Rai blinked. “Did you know any of the ones before Oliver? I haven’t looked up their photographs yet.”

“I mean, more of a general term. Just look at him! He always looks brushed up, wears a suit to the diner. Practically sparkling. He’s the kind of guy who can turn heads, right? I’ve seen him walk into a crowded bar.”

Getting Rai’s staredown after hearing those words was not an experience Sao would have wished for had his life been ending there and then. But mercifully Rai only said, “Right. So he catches the eye of the potential kidnapper or whatever they are, if that’s their type. The suits could lead someone into thinking he’s a middle manager, or in that pay bracket, like the other two.”

“I thought he was a Chimera officer for sure when I first saw him!”

“If it was just looks, that’s one thing. His behavior must remind you of your missing friend as well.”

“Yeah, it’s how they talk. Not exactly what they say, but how they say it? Marina said it was something to do with special schooling. She’s probably right. It’s like magic to public brats like myself.”

“Same here.” Rai eyeballed Sao and asked slowly, “You did say you went to some private academy in the hills? With handwriting classes?”

“For grade school,” Sao said tonelessly.

“Alright, so he fits into their plan. There’s another important factor. Once they’re gone, who looks for them? Well, now that it’s open speculation that their companies are the ones looking, what does that say about the families?”

Sao nearly stood reflexively. Rai only looked back down at the phone sitting in the middle of the table, having casually thrown out his observation. Was it really such an innocent comment, though? Sao mentioning the corporate origin of the posters in front of Zen, perhaps he’d wanted to say that. But to drag Sao’s family into the conversation...

“Need the bathroom?” Rai asked.

Sao shook his head. “Can we refrain from talking about my family as if I’m already gone?”

“Wasn’t going to.” Rai must have noticed the sullen silence because he added, “Sorry. A bad joke.”

“Even putting that aside, I get it.” Sao slouched over, forearm against the window. “If it’ll stop this nerve wracking talk, I’ll stay indoors, call any aunts and uncles still alive, avoid shadowy figures, being out late. And Rai, do you mind if I wear sweatshirts to the office for a while – to throw off the trail.”

“Why? If you're not going out, you don't have to worry about dressing down.”

“I’m sorry!” Zen cried, choking back a weak laugh. “I just don’t want anyone else to go missing!”

“People are going to go missing no matter what.” Rai slid her phone back to her. “But Zen, if it’s any help, I seriously doubt Sao is going to be anywhere near the next to go.”

Zen’s face was red under her already-fiery hair. “I know, I know. I always thought that there were too many people in the city for someone to next door to disappear, but then this happened.”

Sao needed a drink. He took up his seltzer. It had also gone warm.

“Well, it’s unlucky, but the numbers still stand. If it’s really just been down to chance, there’s always a chance nothing will happen at all.” Rai said carefully. “But there’s also the matter of his character.”

Zen sat wide-eyed in anticipation.

“Now it’s my turn to speculate. After all, I only know him, I don’t know your friends. But Sao is a member of the police, while none of the others were even vaguely related to the force - I know that for sure. Police are rarely targets, they are documented like crazy and if they have friends within the force, investigation is more likely to get started up fast. So if he says he’s a cop when he’s out on the town, whoever it is will probably try to avoid him.” Rai pointed a gloved hand. “And furthermore, he has the advantage of being aware of the problem now.”

“Ah.” She perked up slightly.

“As long as he’s aware, he can protect himself. He’s been approved to handle police records, after all, he’s not ready for a military raid but he knows how to be careful by default. I’ve only known him for a few weeks now and he is unexpectedly sharp when dealing with outsiders. He appears a friend when he’s just testing you. He’s the kind who will talk people into a police station and make them feel good about it. Failing that, I know he can at very least come up with some stellar excuses and some nice compliments that will safely get him away from someone he’d rather be leaving behind - an armed abductor, for example. It’s a frightening skill in itself.”

Rai let that sink in. Sao could nearly hear the screech and slam of regret catching up and hitting him head on. After some fumbling for his fork and knife, he began to scrape at his salad again until Sao hazarded an interruption.

“Was that a compliment?”

“A testimonial,” Rai said. “Take it with a grain of salt.”

“I’ll take it then, thank you,” Sao laughed. “Well, there you have it, Zen.”

Zen’s expression had cooled. “I guess I don’t have to worry, then. Though I will. Just call me sometimes, alright?” She laughed too. “This might be the first time I’ve heard Rai say something really nice about anybody. It’s kinda refreshing. Can you do me, next?”

“Uh - you make good coffee.”

“Wow, not so much at once, I’ll faint.” she fanned herself loosely with a hand. “Why don’t I get you a hot cup? I’ve been sitting here long enough, might as well pretend I took an order. You want anything, Sao?”

After the room-temperature seltzer and salad, with the serious debate of his potential kidnapping on top of that, he jumped at the offer.

“Just a moment, I won’t be long.” He flipped the menu over. “God, why live frugally after hearing my prospects. I’ll have a hot tea. And… the roast beef is new, isn’t it?”

“Special treat for the winter.”

“I’ll try that. Rai?”

“Maybe I’ll get something too.” Rai chewed his fork and looked over the menu. It appeared to be causing him great stress.

“Why don’t you also try the roast,” Sao suggested helpfully.

“No, I...” Rai paused. “I don’t eat that kind of meat. Do you have something like what he’s having, but… light?”

“That reminds me, since we’re having a heart-to-heart here.” Sao eyed his empty plate. “Aside from plants, do you only eat chicken?”

“If you’re asking if I’ll eat other meats, then yes. But only prepared in a certain way. And certain types. Chicken is just one of them. Beef, pork… harder to find.”

“Why don’t you let me know what you like, I’ll see if there’s an off-menu special we can pull together,” Zen offered.

“You don’t have to.”

“Just throw out some suggestions,” Sao said. “You know I’ll eat anything, I’d like to know what I might be missing out on, because I haven’t seen you really getting involved in any dish.”

“Let me think.” Rai set the menu down. “Chicken in cream sauce, I don’t know what it’s called. It kind of tastes like the salad dressing you have here, that’s why I always get the same thing. Chicken is safe, most of the time, as long as it’s not been been ground up or full of bones. Um. Other than that…”

At first it looked like he was simply going to drop the thread. But with his audience so rapt, he had to continue.

“Back at home, we used to have this really fine, soft meat, now that’s something I would insist on paying for even if you had your card, Sao. It’s worth it. My mom had to get it imported special, she had some family deal with the farmers, and that crowd are horrendously hard to get in touch with. The meat only comes in small round pieces and grows in really particular conditions, so it’s insanely expensive. I wouldn’t expect to find it for sale in the city… and I don’t know where you’d get any for a birthday, but if you want to look it up, they’re called Snow Mushrooms.”

“Mushrooms,” Sao repeated, chin against his palm. “You said this was a meat…?”

Rai gripped his gloves together in agitation. “I don’t know the technicalities. Like I said, the farming method is obscure. Basically, these mushrooms grow on the backs of snow frogs, and snow frogs themselves are hard to find and raise. The frogs don’t taste so great, but they grow the best Snow Mushrooms - it’s really the only way. Some scams try to farm mushrooms on other animals or rocks or dirt, but cut any corners and it’s all disgusting. Anyway, the good mushrooms themselves have the consistency of chicken, the meat is sort of gray until cut. They also bleed like steaks, and since they came from an animal I always assumed they are some sort of meat.”

Zen and Sao were transfixed, Sao a little green in the face.

Rai shrugged. “Vegetarian meats are alright too.”

“That’s definitely not meat,” Sao groaned.

Zen jumped to the rescue. “How about we got for something in between, and get you the grilled portobello? That's a juicy sort of mushroom. We took those off the menu since management thought nobody wanted them, but sometimes you get a regular who wants one. Or needs one.” She had made several notes on her notepad. “You know, I’ll have to ask Marina for more of those meat alternatives, if that’s your thing.”

“Marina is a vegetarian?” Sao asked.

“For as long as I’ve known her. This is just another reason why you gotta get Rai to meet her,” Zen snickered, “I bet she’d knows all about these Snow Mushrooms, she’d know if they were legally meat or... something else.”

Having had enough of his favorite food being mocked, Rai cut in. “How does she know about me, anyway? I haven’t done anything outside of internal case reviews for years. Did you mention me for some reason or other?”

“Just your name, and she recognized it instantly. She’s a fan of your work. Something about your old field of study, maybe.”

“Even my official files don’t talk about those shitty old essays.“ He jabbed a thumb at Sao. “He’s seen my records, officially managed by the police. He knows there’s nothing linking me to-”

“She’s a heavy reader. And she said your old papers got her through her graduation studies, and also helped place her in her job. It’s a cushy job too.” Zen smiled. “Think it would help if I also started reading them now?”

“Studies...” Rai frowned. “What kind of publications was she looking at?”

“Quantum... qual... I don’t know! It was always too complicated for me. You’ll have to ask her in person.”

Rai looked to Sao, as if he could be any help at all. Sao held up his hands. “I only met her once, didn’t quite catch what her job even was. The topic of you did come up. I got the feeling she was hoping you’d be there instead of me. So if you want to come the next time we meet up, you’re quite welcome to join.”

Rai looked from Sao to Zen, that bottomless stare vaccuming up clues or holes in the story. Almost like a child, Sao thought. But why the suspicion? There are easier ways to get to the bottom of this.

Finally, Rai settled and crossed his arms on the table. “Next time,” As if he were taking on a challenge.

---

I:

Bus stuck in traffic!
Gonna be late 15min
Make that 30min nothing is effin moving

Marina sipped from her icy cup and pressed against the table as a group of six or seven jostled their way through the narrow walkway. Blue pinstripes on all of them. Flashed their blue cards, headed for a private room - Chimera corporates. The room fell silent again.

She tried very hard to keep looking out the window, at the silhouette of the distant city in the dying light, but her reflection kept catching her eye. The girl in the glass was lonely.

She was frequently the first to arrive to their gatherings, but she seemed unable to moderate this to something more on Zen and Icey’s wavelength. They were very different people, after all. Somewhere deep down, she suspected that if they were all the same, they would not have gotten along. Resonance would be unable to occur at a standstill.

But that left her with a few periods like this, where there was nobody to get along with at all. At least this wasn’t a crowded hangout, there were a few tables filled and a bit of noise from the bar, but at their reserved table she could sit still in peace.

Icey was on her way. Zen would be coming from the same direction, if she was coming at all - having Oliver’s face pasted to her workplace door seemed to be taking the wind out of her. Marina had assured her she didn’t have to come, but Zen had seemed enthused by the afternoon. She must still have been exhausted, though.

The phone buzzed. Icey had sent another message, delay time and profanity increasing with each line.

This was when she saw a cloud of brown hair and heard that clear voice. Like a bell. She’d only heard it once before but she was sure. She had never been particularly great at identifying people (more of Icey’s wheelhouse, was she close yet?) but the circumstances surrounding this one had made it hard to forget.

This had been one of the few places without a missing persons poster tacked to the front window, she had taken special notice of that. They had all had enough of the posters, with their smiling eyes and reminders. Always such stiff photographs though, as if posing for a yearbook.

But here was one of those faces regardless, and in the flesh. It was the man they had seen with Oliver, the night he had re-appeared before he disappeared once again. Locke. He turned, then turned again, more dramatically, and sauntered to her table.

“We’ve met, haven’t we?”

“Yes…”

“I thought I recognized you! You’re the um… the uh… engineer? Is that it? The smart one, that’s how I remembered you. You had a friend, too. A lot of people were talking to you guys, but I thought to myself, that one's the smart one.”

Marina pulled back a bit. Locke had his arm up on the table but a safe distance away. He did not move any closer, simply smiled. It was a charming look, but he did not look quite as well-made as he had at the weekend party. His eyes were sharp, and he was clearly in possession of his senses - but different regardless.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

He laughed. An airy chime. “Yeah, I was just surprised to see someone I know.”

“I’ve been seeing you around town since that night, too. You can’t have missed the posters? People are looking for you.”

“Posters? Oh, the missing people’s posters. I’m on those?” He brushed a hand over his face. “I didn’t know, that’s not good. I should give my workplace a call. I just haven’t been able to go in, recently. I’ve been down lately, health problems. I don’t know how it happened.”

“Are you better now?”

“Should be. It was really bad, though. I probably missed so many calls.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Blood in vomit, that sort of- I shouldn’t talk about that here. I shouldn’t even be here, but I felt like I had to get out. It hasn’t been that long, has it…?” Locke was inspecting both of their images in the reflection. “Now that you mention it, I did see the other guy on the posters. The guy I met the other day, uh...”

Marina didn’t say anything. She took out her phone and studied it.

“Oliver,” he finished for himself. “What happened to him?”

“He’s missing.”

“Good god. You know, I never noticed those things until it was someone I’d met. Is that bad?” He rubbed his hair, wildly. Marina backed up another inch, but was nearing the edge of her seat. Locke raised his eyes bashfully. “Should I be going into the police station, you know, to tell them what I saw? He seemed alright but if he’s been missing...”

“I think that would help a lot.”

“I’m going to be up all night thinking about this. Maybe I should just go over now. The police. I can’t believe it.” He laughed faintly.

Marina considered him, phone in hand. His eyes were like fishbowls, glistening with water. She thought of Sao. Their speculations had been wrong. Sao was not like this man at all, in fact it looked like there was no abductor at to begin with.

But still. The conclusion of all studies she’d ever made or been part of - there is always room for alternate explanations.

Tapping the edge of her phone, she finally said, “It’s the right thing for you to do this now. Why don’t I take you there?”

“You’ll come? But you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Neither have you, right? Just give me a moment to pay, and I… I gotta let my friends know where I’m going.”

“You friends? Of course. I hope I didn’t ruin your night.”

Marina flagged a waiter down and flipped through her purse. This place was covered by her cards too, but she had so many, it took forever to dig up the right one. Not to mention the haphazard collection of keys that seemed to pool at the bottom of the bag, catching onto anything and everything. The metal teeth hooked into her favorite keychain, snagged the pack of tissues, and was that a hole in her bottle of lotion? She had been intending to put the keys in the safe but there just hadn’t been time yet.

Locke seemed amused by her card catalogue. He was smiling more easily now, and pulled his arm from the table, as if finally able to support himself. He took a few steps towards the door and then, with a heaving groan, vomited explosively all over the floor.

The churning liquid splashed between Marina’s table the the empty one just behind it. She and the waiter both went still.

Nobody was moving but Locke now, doubled over with emptying convulsions. A waterfall of pasty bile piled and spilled over on the grainy carpet, and in it Marina did not have to look carefully to catch the splatters and flecks of red among the lumps.

The waiter shuffled back, hands raised almost perfectly vertically above his head.

“Oh my god,” Marina said.

“It’s nothing,” Locke sputtered, with a rather nasty bubbling emitted from the back of his throat. “This was happening before. I’m okay now. We should still-”

“You should go to the hospital first,” Marina said, flinging a napkin his way. “Can someone call a taxi? Or an ambulance? Hey!” The waiter went dashing to the foyer without any confirmation, leaving her and Locke hovering over the sweltering mess.

“Come on. I’ll call one myself.” She took him firmly by the arm.

“Air,” he rasped, “Can we step outside first? I’ll just stand over in the corner a few minutes. I don’t think it will happen again. Please.”

“Okay, okay. Just until someone comes to pick us up.”

“Thanks.”

Leaning on her arm rather heavily - he was significantly taller - he stumbled out of the glass accordion doors into the cool night. The weather had stripped the trees, and the umbrellas that had been pulled in for the storm days ago had not been set upright again. Outdoor dining was not popular at this time of the year. But then, with Locke in such a state, a little wind was a small price to pay for some privacy. It was better that way.

Or was it?

That night, an ambulance arrived at the foot of the block, responding to an emergency call along with three taxis. They waited an hour and despite the frantic explanations of the waiter, and the proof in the stench of vomit that now permeated the entire floor, the intended passengers never made an appearance.