“It’s you two again. What’ll it be?”

Rai and Sao were settled in their favored windowside booth, at their favorite restaurant (for lack of compelling nearby rivals). The laminated menus were in hand, but their meal had - or was rather missing – a prominent element.

“One white salad, one roast,” Sao said cordially. He glanced back at the bar, where the cups sat in their neat stacks, as if they did not need anyone attending them to remain in order. The register too was currently un-manned. “Your charming waitress isn’t here today.”

“She’s out sick. You’ll have to settle for me,” said the portly chef, an oily notepad in hand.

“Not the worst change of pace,” Sao laughed. “I hope she feels better.”

“Why don’t you ask her how she’s doing yourself?” Rai asked when the Zen’s substitute had taken their orders and returned behind the bar. “You two are pretty close by now, aren’t you? You get messages from her.”

“I’m not going to wheedle her for taking a day away from work. And what about you, you’ve known her longer and she clearly knows quite a bit about you.”

“I’m not her supervisor.”

“Neither am I.”

“It’s more like she’s your supervisor, isn’t it,” Rai said and pointedly drowned some sugar to his black coffee.

“Yes, it seems you might have competition.” Sao tugged at the sugar selection. “I'd rather not think of her messages at the moment. I know she and her friends are just concerned, and I don’t want them to keep bringing up my probably of being kidnapped. For a period I was getting messages every half hour.”

“Better safe than sorry. And you’re still here, so I conclude that they’ve done a good job.”

“I suppose. What would you do if I didn’t come in one morning?”

“Immediately? Not much different. I probably wouldn’t notice for a few hours. The lights would most likely get left on all day.”

Sao smiled. “That’s the value I add, in a nutshell.”

“You’re serious? If someone I knew went missing, someone I’m expecting every day, of course I’d try to get in touch. With you, there’s the added benefit of knowing at least one additional friend who can confirm you are missing - that’s Zen - and there are your old colleagues at the main office. When all fails it gets formally pushed to the police detectives.”

“Any posters?”

“I’m not selling my organs for printer ink, definitely not for that.” Rai took a gulp of coffee and slammed the cup down. “Because you’re not going missing.”

Sao blew at the surface of his tea, sending a smooth wisp of smoke gliding off. Left without any retaliation, Rai became bored and turned his stalwart red-eyed stare out to the street beyond the window. He had not yet pulled a smile in front of Sao (other than the grisly smirk he sometimes gave his computer when he’d made a tough breakthrough) but he had been in notably good humor lately. He was just full of jokes. Perhaps his outburst the week before had released any major tensions he’d had regarding his new employee. The sleepiness issue was addressed (if not resolved) and Sao’s reaction to such a situation had been quite professional - that was what Sao chose to believe.

Rai hadn’t brought up his strange ‘puzzle’ since that time, and though Sao did not have an answer he’d done some brief research. In case the topic came up again, he could at least round out a conversation, if not pose an answer that would repair society as they knew it. He hadn’t planned on giving it too much time, but finding substantial articles had been inexplicably difficult. To begin with, nearly every Life Fountain case file was walled off to anyone under Level 2. Published new articles were speculative, and mostly flattering to the police and avoided touching on the fates of the kidnappers, statements from the families, and the topic or even the phrase ‘Life Fountain’ as a reference.

He had rolled out a special request to a contact deeper within the force to see if anything came up. After he had done so, he immediately wondered if he was giving the whole thing more attention than it deserved. Perhaps Rai was teaching him a lesson about research methods. Or perhaps his supervisor's anger had mangled his communication skills and simply produced a cruel trick question and accompanying rant in the heat of the moment.

It was still not clear what he’d been mad about in the first place. Something about the kidnappings. And now here they were, joking about it. About his safety.

But joking or not, Rai always punctuated those discussions with the statement: ‘You’re not going to get kidnapped.’ Not with particular kindness, but totally assured, like it was a fact everyone already knew. His confidence was touching.

“Something funny?” Rai asked.

“Hm. Was thinking I should tell Zen about her replacement.”

The chef was barking orders into the kitchen door behind the bar, while balancing four dishes in hand - not an amateur at the job after all. A couple at the bar tried to flag him down and he smiled at them viciously.

“I guess it is a little funny,” Rai said blandly.

“Yes. But we shouldn’t laugh. He’d not doing too badly, it’s just such a change. I think he’s actually faster with the orders, no small talk.”

“You’re going to tell Zen that too?”

Sao was thankfully saved from that line of questioning by the arrival of their food.

“Here you go.” The chef-turned-waiter said. “Everything look correct?”

Sao set down his cup. He had been given a pile of coffee creamers instead of milk, a sign that the place was going to the dogs without Zen, but the room was crowding up, and the single substitute waiter would soon have his hands full.

“Yes, we’re all good here.”

---

Back in the office. Sao sank into his chair and just basked in the heat for a while, staring up at the ceiling. The floors creaking, heating pipes clicking calmly away, warm yellow lights glowing overhead, most importantly the winter cold righteously confined to the pale outdoors.

He sent Zen a cordial message, wishing her well. Have some chicken soup, he suggested, and don’t worry about the restaurant in the least. The chefs seem to have it covered.

After getting his fill of coffee over lunch, Rai was adding a bit of variety to his life with some energy drinks he had picked up on one of their previous snack runs. He was on his second can. He had a single small file on his desk without any red stamps or stickers. Not a rush job, it was something he could chew through in a matter of hours - and he had all night - so presumably he was taking it easy for today.

Of course, it was Rai, so ‘taking it easy’ meant he was reading all of the latest cases to come in, and going through old ones just for fun.

Sao yawned, stretched. Rai ignored him. Yes, he was feeling rather sleepy again. The energy drinks in their neon cans looked enticing, but he’d hold out just a bit more...

It was just another day at the office.

Sao’s phone buzzed. Zen’s reply. Rai glanced over briefly, and then back at his monitors, a frown setting in.

When he opened his messages, Sao’s calm was slowly wiped of his face as well. He looked around the room, as if he might find help, and had to settle for the only possible option.

“Rai. Just heard back from Zen. If I could get your thoughts...”

“It’s bad news, isn’t it.”

The room itself hadn’t changed, but suddenly felt an undeniable chill. Sao remained at his seat, one hand clawing the armrest. He wanted to say something more, possibly something not quite considerate to Rai, but seeing his supervisor’s face he remained still. Rai’s dark-rimmed eyes travelled down the screen, narrowing, and finally he finished, and set his drink down - uncharacteristically light-handed.

“Is she at the police station?”

“How did you know?”

“The report just landed in the database, less than an hour ago. Her friend Marina’s been declared missing.”

Sao got to his feet, and Rai wordlessly moved aside so he could view the file. The newest addition to the list of disappearances. Marina S__. Reported by both her employer and a friend, as of that morning. Three photos were provided, one a corporate portrait with her hair longer than it had been, and two in the company of friends. In all, even in her workplace, she was smiling.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her face,” Rai commented.

That only made things worse. It was now possible that they would never meet. Even if she turned up, it wouldn’t be first impressions at all. To Rai, she was already another police file. And all that, only if she was found - and the current track record of disappearances weren’t exactly comforting.

Sao slumped against the desk. “It happened again. This really isn’t normal, is it?”

“It’s some really bad luck.”

A minute or two passed as they read through the file. Time seemed to be dragging its heels. Sao hit the end and looked away, paced to the window, back to his chair. Rai took his time grilling every word.

“Think it’s the same abductor?” Sao asked.

“We don’t even know if the Oliver and Locke disappearances had anything to do with each other. And this Marina, she’s a different sort of...” Rai paused. “A different type from the other two.”

“There could be two kidnappers. Or even three. They could be a group, or unrelated entirely...”

“I can’t say anything for sure yet. She’s out of the pattern when it comes to gender and appearance, but she’s educated, and she’s also in a pretty high-end job. Dimensional Engineer, it says. I don’t even know what that is.”

“She made it seem like a job based on your old papers.”

“Still beats me.”

Sao sighed. “So all we conclude is that there could be any number of kidnappers. Or reasons or profiles. What a mess.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Sao slid lower into his chair. “But imagine how Zen feels, two of her friends go missing within a few weeks. No wonder she took time away from work.”

“It’s likely that she was the friend who reported it. She and Marina have known each other a long time?”

“I never thought to ask. They looked like good friends.” Sao gazed up at the ceiling. The cracks that had never gotten his attention before suddenly looked very precarious. “Whatever a Dimensional Engineer is to a waitstaffer, there was never any competition between them, as far as I could tell. Marina seemed to fit right in, actually it was moreso Zen and Icey who stood out. Still, she seemed like the most careful of the three. What could have happened?”

“I’ve talked about this. It could be anything. It could be something never documented before. People are disappearing all the damn time for all kinds of magical reasons.”

“Alright, alright.”

Rai pressed his gloves together in front of his face. “Sorry.”

Sao laughed, a little sore. “It’s just such a… horrible surprise.”

“I have to remember she’s your friend too. Have you tried contacting her?”

“Zen said they found her phone at a restaurant where they'd been planning to meet, dropped and broken. I tried an email, but well, I shouldn’t be expecting anything soon if...”

“Any more information from Zen?”

“I don’t know if I should pester her anymore. I’m sure she said as much as she could when she went to the police.”

The slam of gloves going down on the desk. Sao jerked out of his chair to see Rai on his feet. “No. It’s all the more reason to ask. When she’s giving her statement at one of the stations, chances are it was just to some lazy desk-bound officer or clerk looking to end the session as fast as possible. They won’t have asked, just listened and looked at the clock. She was in there around lunchtime after all. Office staff can be huge disappointments sometimes.” Rai stopped. “No offense intended.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I feel like I have to make up for it.” Sao took up his phone again. “What would I be asking for?”

“Anything. What was Marina doing the last time they spoke?”

“She already mentioned it. She was holding a table for her and Icey, post-work drinks. Though… it is a little strange. She made a call before she disappeared.”

“Going to the hospital, right? Does Zen know what for?”

“The police or the hospital - Zen got the impression that in the end, she was headed to the hospital. Because she...” Sao’s mouth twitched. “Hold on.”

“The file says she was last seen ‘at the hospital’ but it’s light on the details. If she was actually seen at the hospital then it’s fishy that there isn’t any camera footage or check-in info. I’m guessing the real story is a little more complicated.”

“Well, Zen says Marina only said she was going to go - there wasn’t any confirmation that she got there. She just said she was calling a taxi for Locke.”

“Locke. The second missing man? She recognized him, mentioned him by name?”

“Says he walked up to her and threw up all over the carpet.”

“Is that a joke?”

“Hold on,” Sao murmured.

“Just write what I’m asking. Or, how about we call her?”

“I don’t want to tire her out, come on. She’s having a rough day.”

Rai was staring at him as if he were insane. Leads! Information! Interesting stories to tell at night, just worming away! No doubt that was what was on his mind. But Zen’s messages were already falling back, not running off but simply fading. Once she put down the phone, be it in frustration or exhaustion, there would be nothing to chase. She was clearly tired, and growing irritable.

He had to be careful.

Z:

anything else
Rai is going nuts isnt he

Sao smiled slightly. “Looks like I didn’t soften the message enough.”

“Did she block you or something?”

“No.” Sao passed him the phone with messages on screen. “From what I understand, Marina was waiting for Icey and Zen for dinner when she met someone she definitely believed was Locke. He talked about Oliver and seemed surprised that he was on the Missing Persons list himself. He was acting odd, but agreed to go to the police station. He said he had been away from work because of illness, and though she didn’t believe him at first, eventually he vomited and she called a taxi to get him to hospital. And that’s the last Zen heard from her.”

Rai simply stared at the tiny screen, forehead creased in focus. He did not try to scroll or touch anything - but his hands were tensed around the edges as if he wanted to dig right into its contents, claws bared.

It then occurred to Sao that his gloves were preventing him from doing so. On his own phone, Rai took calls by pressing a physical button. Whenever he had bigger business, calls, messages, Sao couldn’t say what (because he’d never seen Rai while he did it), and needed to touch skin to the screen, Rai stepped out of the room.

Being unable to thoroughly analyze this goldmine in front of him was clearly destroying him. Sao saw him pick at the cuff of his left glove with his right hand, tense and then-

Rai snapped his teeth shut and handed the phone back. “One more thing. What is the name of this restaurant they were headed to?”

“I’ll ask. Or do you want to send the question?”

“No, you should do it. She’s expecting you to be on the other end. Plus, I’m supposed to be going nuts at the moment.” Rai sat down, point to make, and lunged at his keyboard then swung wildly towards the doorway.

As smoothly as he could manage, Sao gently wondered in Zen’s direction what sort of eatery had managed to coax Locke out of his disappearance.

“A fringe neighborhood place called ‘Skyline’.” Sao set his phone down. “I think she just got home, she’s going to get some rest.”

Rai was rifling through the coat rack. He yanked out one of his wool coats and manhandled Sao’s off the hook as well. “Good. We don’t have to bother her for a while.”

“Are you going out?”

Rai pointed at his desk. “The whole restaurant-hospital combo was giving me deja vu. There was another report, filed a day ago. Actually, it was two, but they were small and apparently too ridiculous to warrant filing twice so they got mashed together.”

Sao tilted his head at Rai's screen. “Prank calls and vandalism.”

“That’s what the restaurant and ambulance claimed. Apparently someone barfed in the dining room and ran off. According to the waiter, the ‘vandal’s’ female companion called for an ambulance and two taxis in a panic, but the couple never showed up for the ride.”

Sao reached a hand out without taking his eyes off the screen. Rai threw him his coat.

“And where were both of these incidents reported? Well, you don’t have to guess now that you got the name.” Rai jammed his keys into his pocket.

“I take it we’re officially on the case.”

Rai tapped his foot by the door, and after some hasty consideration, turned off the lights. “Are you going to sit right back down and take a nap if I say no?”

And there was his customary smirk again. Unfriendly as ever, but the fangs weren’t aimed at Sao. His focus had already been launched at ‘Skyline’. God help the staff of the place.

Rai was halfway out the door. “Come on.”

---

“Keep your coat on,” advised the manager, a small, nervous looking man in a tie the color and approximate texture of raw eggplant.

The restaurant Skyline sat on the first floor of a typical converted factory. Presumably named for its view, the walls were formed of tall folding doors made entirely of glass, through which the shapes of skyscrapers should be seen in the distance, across the river. A large open floor plan was laid with ruddy brown carpet and dotted with linen-covered tables and some stylishly twisted metal chairs. Though the temperature outdoors had been slowly sinking towards zero, the windows - in other words, the entire wall that should have separated the dining room from the terrace - was folded back, wide open.

The dining room was devoid of guests, and no wonder. Icy wind was blasting through like a funnel from the open wall, the tablecloths were flapping like ghosts. Sao pulled his coat around him and listened to Rai negotiate with the floor manager, who had plenty to say on his own.

“Thank you for coming so quickly. I didn’t think our case would even get picked up. Sorry about the chill. The smell just won’t go away.”

“I see. We appreciate your help.”

“The incident occurred right here. The table near the end.”

Rai and Sao looked in the direction of the manager’s finger. At that moment, an eye-watering draft tore through the dining room. They looked away.

“Was there anyone else here at that time?” Rai shouted over the wind.

“What?”

“Was there anyone who could have seen anything?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear-”

“WAS THERE ANYONE ELSE NEARBY AT THE TIME.”

“Just the waiter! Of course the bar is always more busy than the-” The manager’s voice went indistinct.

“The bar is what?”

“Always busy! Even-”

“Could someone there have seen something?”

“What?”

“COULD SOMEBODY AT THE BAR HAVE SEEN THE VANDALS.”

“Oh, no.”

Rai gave a full-bodied sigh that was not even audible. “Can we talk somewhere else?”

“Excuse me-”

“CAN WE TALK SOMEWHERE ELSE?”

“Don’t you want to inspect the scene? Assess the damage? We’re losing business by keeping these doors open, I want this confirmed-”

“No thank you, if we could just step-”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“You have security cameras? I see one. Over there. OVER THERE!” Rai walked to a wall and pointed vigorously upward. The manager saw. But he was not convinced.

“Can you see what the damages are first-”

Rai held a gloved hand up impassively and turned to Sao. “My assistant will asses the damages.” He turned to Sao and in a deadly hiss that seemed to ride the wind he said, “Go and assess.”

Sao didn’t say anything for a second. Rai’s hand began to form a claw at his shoulder, but didn’t grab and shake him, though he must have wanted to. Still respectful, or maybe he was planning to throw a table instead. He didn’t do that either.

Sao shrugged and shot him a winning smile. “Whatever you say, boss.”

“What?”

Sao smiled further, waved him off and headed for the front of the wind tunnel. He took one glance back and saw Rai set a firm hand on the waiter’s shoulder and directed him back into the entryway for a talk.

---

After a few moments of windblown investigation and some chatter with the manager, who seemed even more mortified than he’d been before, Sao was shown to the security office. The heat and quiet of the little side room hit him like a massive pillow. There was little equipment but a single computer and some worn lounge furniture (a step down from the sleek dining room) but it felt like paradise after his ordeal. He took a deep breath. It felt like his face was going to fall off.

“Done?” Rai said, without looking away from the monitor he was currently studying.

“Oh, I’m definitely done.”

“Good. Take a look at this.”

Sao slumped into one of the swivel chairs (not as comfortable as his own at the office), pulled his lapels as straight as they were going to get, and smoothed down his hair.

“Sorry to leave you out,” Rai said, rewinding the tape. “But that screaming match was going nowhere. Sometimes I have to have give a stronger talk, when the person in charge has no focus. Of course, once he finally turned onto the fact that we’re here about a disappearance and not the stupid carpet, he was ready to kick us out. And then things had to get stronger.”

“Hm.” The loose chair wheels swayed easily. “I don’t see a problem with that. A little strong arm negotiation can help in times like these.”

“As long as you get it. Sometimes the badge isn’t enough. Especially if it’s just third level. There are even officers within the force who think we’re just cheap rentals, going too far for our budget.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Naturally, Sao had little personal experience in the upper-level internal clashes. But he wouldn’t have been surprising if Rai had been reported once or twice. He hadn’t done much more than paperwork since they had met, and Sao was unclear about what Rai did during the nights, but he had the stinging air of a troublemaker. He was on his feet too much, literally so. Make more tries, make more mistakes.

A bit of a pity. But if they managed to uncover Marina, and possibly Locke and Oliver, then what did one squirming manager mean?

“Hey.” Rai made the motion of snapping his fingers. Hands in gloves, he still produced a surprisingly potent crack.

Sao sat up. Rai quickly turned back to the screen.

“Our missing persons were last shown about 8.30. Here comes Marina.” He set the video to play. “By the way, you have something on your face.”

“Is that right.” Sao automatically raised his hand.

“D-don’t touch it now,” Rai snapped. “Deal with it on our way out.”

Sao smiled at him acidly but Rai’s attention was now fully attached to the camera footage. Marina’s last known moments. And, he supposed, unexpectedly this was Locke’s last sighting too - spotted after he’d officially gone missing.

Again, no sound, but Skyline’s choice of Chimera camera provided a bit of milky color along with respectable image clarity. He instantly spotted Marina in a navy jacket and skirt, against the pale sheeted tables and darkened red carpet. She was sitting on her own at a table near the back of the wide room, against the bifold door (closed at the time), looking out at the city. A candle at at the table, unlit. It could have just been retrospect, but she looked impossibly lonely.

Her image sat poised, poetically calm and unknowing, until Rai unceremoniously hit the fast-forward. He skipped the footage along until a second figure appeared at the table.

Wavy brown hair with glints of gold when he came under the lights. Fairly tall, a mottled camel-colored outfit. “That’s Locke, then,” Sao said.

“It’s hard to tell because the table’s so far back, but Marina recognized him. She was sure enough to tell her friends.”

“She did see him in person not too long ago.”

“He’s on a couple of other cameras earlier that evening, but from what I could see he just sat at the bar staring at his phone until she came in, and not immediately - it took a while for him to notice.”

Marina was intermittently providing simpering conversation and checking her phone.

Rai prodded the screen. “She was probably drilled at this in school. Women’s safety. Keeping in constant contact with someone if you think anything’s about to happen.”

“You think she suspected he was making some sort of play?”

“I don’t know. But seeing a guy who’s supposed to be missing turning up casual as that - it’s definitely a reason for suspicion.” Rai nodded at the screen. “Though something happened that brought her out of caution mode.”

Marina was standing up, suddenly animated and flagging down a waiter. Locke seemed equally pleased and eager to help. When the waiter arrived, Marina drew out her wallet while Locke took a step towards the back wall.

Rai clicked his teeth in disapproval as Locke came inches from leaving the camera’s range.

Soon a cascade of thick liquid began pouring around Locke’s feet as he began vomiting. He staggered forward a few steps and dipped, eventually all but a few tufts of brown hair were obscured by one of the dining tables as he hunched over. Marina and the waiter were paralyzed for a moment; Marina recovered first, rushing to the edge of the screen to aid Locke as the waiter charged out of the dining area.

Marina pushed Locke fully offscreen while screaming something in the direction of the runaway waiter. All the players gone, the scene became motionless.

“It’s not over yet,” Rai said. “Watch the top.”

Sure enough, only a minute later, Marina and Locke exited through the single open panel of doorway, out onto the terrace. Their backs turned, there was little hint at their states at the time, but Locke still appeared weak, Marina tense with an arm raised to support.

Stillness again.

“And that’s it.” Rai sat back and crossed his arms. “They didn’t come back in. The waiter checks on them after calling a taxi, runs outside about ten minutes later, but doesn’t find anything. The restaurant doesn’t have any cameras out there.”

“Of all the places to miss.” Sao ran a hand over his hair again, then over his face. Rai frowned. Did he really have something stuck to his face? “But how did they leave from there?”

“Her phone was found on the ground level, so presumably they climbed. There are fire escapes going down the whole building. Plus, it’s the first floor. They could have gone down pipes, jumped in a dumpster. It’s easier than it sounds.”

“It doesn’t sound easy.” Sao sighed. “It's windy out there. Marina wouldn’t have wanted to go, is it really so easy to bring down someone who isn’t willing?”

“He could have been faking.” Rai drummed his fingers on the table. “You didn’t happen to get any of the stuff he threw up?”

Sao grimaced. “No. It’s all been cleared, except for a stain on the carpet. The manager was right, by the way, the smell’s still there. But none of the stuff itself.”

“Sorry. Stupid question.” Rai rubbed his eyes. ‘But Marina mentioned blood in the vomit. That could mean a lot of things.“

“You can check it yourself. Maybe they still have a mop and bucket.”

Rai shot over one of his patented glares. “I’ll check. And I’ll check the hospital logs that week. Locke claimed he was too sick for work.”

Sao swayed in his swivel chair. “Even if he wasn’t strong enough, he could have had someone waiting to help take her away.”

“Hm.” Onscreen, the waiter was now searching frantically for the missing offenders. Rai panned the video into rewind, the waiter scampering wildly backwards, Marina and Locke returning to the room, sliding offscreen, then back on, then moonwalking back to the table. “Another person. Now there’s a possibility. Locke was on his phone until he walked up to Marina, even though nobody’s been able to contact him since he went missing. And there’s the question of Oliver who turned up in front of Locke in spite of being declared missing, who’s also disappeared since then. If additional people are involved, he looks like a decent candidate.”

“And they both made their mysterious reappearances in pretty good condition, sickness aside.”

“If Marina is really continuing the chain, at least we can hope she will appear uninjured as well.”

Sao laughed so bitterly he ended in a cough. “A chain? It’s only two people - maybe three, but we don’t even know.”

“Why, does it need to get longer before we take it seriously?” Rai sniffed. “We just have to use what we know so far and try to stop it. If she really does reappear like the previous two, that could be bad.”

“Right... It could lead to another disappearance. The pattern of male victims doesn’t even hold anymore. It could be anyone.”

“There’s still the theoretical link of their careers and education.”

“Doesn’t that just make it tougher? How in the world are those kinds of people convinced to abandon their lives? And secondly, if they’re actually hiding safely in the background, why make surprise re-appearances like this?”

“Recruitment?”

“For what?”

“Some… organization. Cult, maybe. Cults need smart people, with money.”

Sao couldn’t help but laugh again. “Ah, this sounds familiar. You’re thinking of that transcript I was working on back on my first week. But remember, I only transcribe – when the report called their members intelligent, self-made, etcetera - that was just self-advertisement. They only pulled in the rich for the upper level crew, the majority of cultists were pretty typical, even uneducated individuals - and members didn’t go missing, they left homes and were blatantly dodging the law. Besides, there hasn’t been even a marginally successful cult anywhere near the core cities for decades.”

“Things change.”

“Yes. And the idea of cults got wiped out when they attracted too much attention for disappearances they didn’t cause.” Sao smiled. “I say it as sure as you said I wouldn’t go missing. It’s not a cult.”

“Yeah. I can hope.”

“First time I’ve heard of someone hoping for a cult.”

“You’re right, it’s idiotic” Rai began biting the knuckles of his glove, an accusing glare fixed to the wall behind the computer. “There are more likely, shitty alternatives that will be easier to confirm if we find a body.”

Sao fell silent. He said nothing as Rai opened up two different video files, checked their footage at the time of the disappearance, and found nothing interesting. Still seated, Sao watched over his shoulder. His eyes were stinging and his muscles sore, but somehow he could not relax here as he did at his desk. It could have been the way the whir of the computer echoed, or the lack of windows, or just the circumstances.

Or the mention of bodies.

Rai’s phone buzzed. He lifted it from the table, pressing only the hardware button.

“Zen finally answered the question I asked this morning.”

“Did you send it before she got home?”

“I sent it as soon as I saw Marina’s file appear. There was an important point missing, and I didn’t know she was involved in the report so I was trying to be subtle, in case she didn’t know. But she might have been offended.”

“Subtle,” Sao echoed.

Rai didn’t react. Something he was used to, no doubt. “Whatever happened, she came through. Although, it’s getting late.”

“Give her a break.”

“I’m talking about you. This will almost definitely take us past office hours. If you would rather pick this up tomorrow, it’s… it’s not a problem.”

Not technically a problem, like Zen answering a message late. There was some strain to his words. He was itching to take off, assisted or not.

Sao stood. “If we’re continuing the investigation, of course I’ll join. I won’t be able to think of anything but Marina if I go home now.”

Rai regarded him blankly, then nodded. Slow at first, then more invigorated as if some weight had lifted. “Of course. If you’re up for it. But we’d better hurry anyway, traffic at this time is brutal.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Marina’s home address.” Rai shoved his phone in his pocket and stopped abruptly at the door. He swiveled and held up a hand. “Wait, wait. Wait. Not yet.”

“Where’d the urgency go?”

Rai didn’t laugh. “Should hit the restroom before we leave.”

---

Rai himself did not need to visit the restroom - his comment was meant entirely for Sao. It seemed easier to just humor his advice than argue.

The bathroom was very white and smelled thoroughly sterilized, fitting of the place’s high-flyer's name. There was not a speck of mildew, even in the farthest corners.

The large wall was adorned with a huge, frameless mirror. In it, Sao saw what Rai must have spotted ‘on his face’. From a distance, it looked like a small red rash under his right eye. When he looked closer he saw the skintone along the edge along his cheekbone was beginning to fray off, and the wind and sweat had discolored his powder into a greenish patina down the center of his face, over his nose.

The damn wind, the damn tablecloths and ferns outside flailing over his face.

He sighed, longer and louder than he had all day, and pulled out his small zippered bag of amenities. No wonder Rai had been sorry. Thank god for his watchfulness. And subtlety, what little there was.

All the more reason to be careful.

Sao exited the bathroom, presentable once more. “Good as new.”

The manager waiting beside Rai in the hall gave him an offhand look. Rai did too, but then, his face seemed fixed in such steely forms. He broke the manager’s judgment with a hard clap to the shoulder. The noise seemed to shock the man more than the impact.

“We’ll be in touch,” Rai told him.

---

A taxi deposited them at the edge of a vacant lot. Uselessly large, there were not more than ten cars parked in its expanse and though signs marked it as GOVERNMENT LAND - NO UNLAWFUL ENTRY the place was not even remotely fenced off. It was fringed by some shabby apartments, dumpsters, and weathered construction equipment. Rai and Sao cut through the lot on their way to the apartments. The gray cement was turning a rosy peach under the streetlights as the sun slid out of the sky. To their right, a sprawl of bus stops were set on the curb. To the distant left was a strip of shops. Judging by the single lit sign, only a convenience store was open.

The grand building was patched with lit windows, but not too many. Its ornate front was more more imposing than it was impressive - this was not a popular locale. The doors were tall and arched at the top, extremely heavy but opened and closed with a sort of muted puff, as if reluctant to accept visitors.

For what it was worth, the lobby was pleasant - a bit like a hotel with marbled floor tiling, a long counter serving as a front desk, and some elderly floral couches that were not as worn as expected. Not a single staffer in sight, though and no cameras. Rai took the time to paw around for them.

The elevator was in operation, and that was serviceable too. They rode up to the eighth floor surrounded by mirrors. They were clean, but clouded by design, giving the illusion of being misted over.

Sao tried to inspect his face again. Of course, all he saw was a blur, moving in vague reflection. In the strange silence, it was like having someone in the corner of your eye, doing something just out of sight. Looking did no good.

On Marina’s floor, the heavy silence persisted. It was hard to imagine her living in such a place. But Zen wouldn’t lie, Rai wouldn’t waste time on clearly incorrect information. It was too presumptuous to make claims about Marina now, he hadn’t known her long, and he hadn’t been much help on her case, but it was still difficult.

“This is it?” Sao asked as Rai finished counting the endless doors and stopped at #808.

Rai stroked his chin while inspecting the door’s impressive array of locks. Several fixtures had been added beyond the original rusty keyhole. Rai tried to doorbell, and then the doorknob. The result was not surprising.

“Marina, are you in there?” Sao called, “It’s Sao, remember me? Zen introduced me, last weekend. She's been trying to reach you. Are you alright?”

“No answer,” Rai declared.

They listened a while regardless. It was deathly quiet, knowing there were people around them but not hearing anything - now that was ominous. Like they knew something you didn’t, you had to hold your breath to keep the worst of them away.

From the floor above came the sound of someone dropping at least three metal pans. Sao flinched. Rai did not. He continued to stare at the locks as if they could be intimidated into falling off, and eventually stopped to check his phone. “No signal.”

“Not a good sign.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. My carrier has always been a complete waste of money.” Rai nodded towards the end of the hall and lowered his voice. “Let’s wait a while over there. If someone’s inside who doesn’t want to be found, they aren’t going to come out if we’re chatting at the front door.”

A neon green sign hung over a pair of double doors. Fire stairs. Rai pushed them open to reveal a square enclosure, iron handrails lining the square spiral of staircase all the way up, and all the way down. The smell of cigarette smoke was pervasive, and so were the echoes, a bodiless rattling dropped from several flights up. Rai opened one of the windows and the echoes dissipated, just a bit. Ignoring the chill he waved his phone around like a wand, eventually hunching himself into a moldy corner. “Really, I pay these guys and this is all the signal I get? Keep an eye on the hall. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Got it.” Sao leaned against the doors, peering through the inlaid windows. “I have to say, this is quite a place.”

“Not what you expected?”

“It’s not… unbearable. It’s some unbelievable peace and quiet compared to the city. But it’s a little… out of the way. And those extra locks, the empty lot, not a soul in sight. I wouldn’t have imagined that Marina lived someplace like this.”

The hallway with its muddy brown carpet and flickering lights suddenly looked very inviting from their chilly vantage point of the fire escape. Sao wrapped his hands against his sides.

Tucked into the corner, Rai mumbled, “Well, we know she’s a some kind of engineer, but housing is still way too expensive in the city. This place is probably a good deal.”

“It’s just so strange to picture Marina walking through here all dressed in some tailored suit, maybe high heels, headed to one of those supercompany skyscrapers. It’s a little funny, but also-”

“Scary?”

“I didn’t want to say it.”

“This place is nothing unusual. A little dirt doesn’t mean murderous tenants. At least everyone here seems to be minding their own business.” Rai emerged from the corner, adjusting his gloves. “Makes me wonder though, where exactly do you live?”

“In the city.” Sao laughed. “Okay, I’m lucky - it’s a nice apartment, way beyond my supposed budget, way beyond what I deserve. The building belongs to a generous friend. So yes, I’ve been a little spoiled as of late. The office - your place - is in an impressive location too.”

“Oh yeah?” Rai snorted, his own unpleasant chuckle. “It’s nice now that there are trees and people out. Until a few years ago, the south side, you know, where I live - it looked more like this. Empty space, half the lightbulbs anywhere just burned out. Maybe worse - you got the people. It was loud, loud people, loud incidents. Sure, some of the assholes stayed in hiding, but not all. There’s unfriendly and hiding, and then there’s unfriendly and in your face. Had some ugly times. Zen almost shot a guy.”

“What in the world--?”

”The moron tried to round up all the women and kids with a cattle prod, but that’s beside the point.” Rai paused for breath, as if the memories were that tiring. “Suddenly the chief cracked down on all of it. Maybe someone important finally got jumped or the mayor decided it would be a good move. Maybe because I complained my ass off. More likely because of the ridiculous slasher trend that got revved up in the later years. Not even ghosts, or monsters, or spells: just nutjobs who thought they could get away with jumping out and cutting up people. It ranged from sneaky throat slashes, simple stuff, to some pretty horrendous trails of bodies and the like. And yes, a lot of them did get away with it. But when the chief got going there was massive cleanup, rewards, patrols - I don’t know where he moved all the bad seeds, but they’re gone, no more throats slit in alleys, no more drive by smash and shoots, no more cattle prods in the city.”

“Thank god.”

“I miss the reward days a little, I made a fortune then.”

“Hah, 24 hours on the job, I’m imagining you had little competition.”

“You got it. But I lost an equal ton on renovations. Idiot move. Rent tripled, and contractor fees did too. I’m on some police subsidy now, so I’m not dying but-” he shrugged. “I stuck to street food or went out of town, until you turned up.”

Sao smiled silently.

“It only took six months of work before the artists moved in, snapping up the cheaper floors and making their pricey bistros and galleries.” Rai rolled his eyes. “The bus lines all started running through there, the old warehouse and factories were released and refurbished, and now it’s all ready for people like you.”

“What does that mean?”

“City kids.”

Sao feigned a pain in his chest. “Please, I’m more of a simple country rube. You know more about the city than I ever will. Haven’t you lived here a long time?”

“The way you talk sometimes, I swear....” Rai stood across from Sao, setting his back against the powdery white wall. “You’re right. Been in the core city area my whole life.”

“Exciting times.”

“And a load of disappearances. But things are always changing. For all I know, this place could be the next district to get turned upside down. The dirt pours out, and prices go up. And Marina will be getting major returns on this apartment. Lot of young professionals buy up a floor or two of these super-shacks, if they think a station or mall is going to get built nearby – you see that big lot out there, know what it's perfect for? Plus, insider knowledge helps. She’s part of a big company, right? Judging by the lack of neighbors, eventual real estate jackpot might have been her plan.”

“Thinking of the future.” Sao’s smile dimmed a little. “You think we’ll find her?”

“You asked me that already. It’s too early to say. All we have to follow are Locke and Oliver, who have just become greater mysteries, and the assumption that her disappearance is related. If I say anything now, it would just be a completely random guess.”

“Intuition.”

Rai scoffed. Sao looked at the small open window. Night had fallen, and from the eighth floor surrounded by emptiness, they should have been seeing sky. But the view was more orange lamp glow than night.

“Can’t see any stars,” Sao commented. “One reason to miss the old schoolhouse.”

“How long have you been in the city, anyway?” Rai asked.

“Feels like a long time, for a country simpleton.” Sao turned back to the hall. The flickering lightbulb was going tirelessly. “It's been less of a trial lately since my luck’s been picking up. Working, just riding from one nice areas to the other, being among good people.” Rai took that compliment without blinking. Sao sighed. “The early days were hard. When I think back to them, that’s when I feel the time weighing in.”

“Hard, how so?”

“Adjusting, the new faces, the noise. No stars. And the… perhaps I shouldn’t be so judgmental about Marina, and this fine piece of estate. I used to live in a pretty dire location myself and-” He paused for thought. How would you describe them? They had a word, though it didn’t fit at all, it was what he had. “The family.”

“Were you a kid when you moved?”

“I suppose. I don’t remember the exact years.”

“You were probably a kid then.”

Sao smiled at the ground. “It’s your job to make these kinds of resolutions out of clues. I’ll just take your word for it, since I don’t have a real answer. There’s a… significant period where I don’t remember anything.”

He could instantly tell Rai was skeptical. Laser focused, red eyes bore down on him. “Nothing at all? Do you remember anything that came before or after it?”

“I remember the school before it. The same school I always talk about - the mansion in the hills, handwriting class, etiquette - I remember those for sure. Afterward, there was the family and the move to the city. So I’d say roundabout five years in between are just-” he flicked fingers to the air.

“The mansion. It was a boarding school, was it? Sounds like there were just tutors and other kids.”

“I assume so. It was like that as long as I was there and I was there since I was very young. Since years I wouldn’t expect to remember.”

“Do you remember leaving? To go home, maybe?”

“I think…” Sao frowned. “It’s not clear.”

“Alright. Either way, the void years probably involved what came next.” Rai drummed his fingers against the wall. “Family.”

Sao looked at the window. His eyelids were heavy, but Rai had stated his punchline in with such confidence Sao couldn’t help but snicker.

“When you put it that way, perhaps it’s not so bad to have lost those particular memories.” When Rai stiffened in alarm, Sao continued, “It’s a long story, but I haven’t completely wiped them from memory. They weren’t pleasant people. Even back then, we tried not to speak much. And now, I don’t have to talk to them at all.”

“Oh. That’s... rough.”

“But likely the best possible outcome.” Sao rubbed his eyes and yawned. He was tired, talking nonsense, things that shouldn’t have been brought up. Would it be another mis-step to switch gears to Rai’s family? Probably. Generating small talk in such a place was proving difficult. “Any sign of Marina?”

Rai shook his head, only checking briefly. “Did you hear about the memory hole incidents a couple years back?”

“No. Oh - you don’t think I was affected?”

“They were… probably too recent to have taken the years you mentioned. But your talk about memory loss just reminded me. The Holes caused a rash of disappearances around the suburbs, a couple edging into the business district. The effect was similar to what you have, a bunch of years in memory just vanished, no recollection. Sometimes they recalled seeing a purple flash right before the incident, but that wasn’t a great clue - only useful for avoiding it if you knew what to look out for in the first place. Not everyone disappeared, only the ones who lost memories too close to the present, too big a chunk, I don’t remember the specific measurements - it’s complicated stuff. The cops had no way of knowing the details, but they got the gist of the problem.”

“But even if you know, you put yourself at risk as an investigator, don’t you? How do you even try to stop such a thing?” Sao said. “I mean, I’m assuming it’s stopped.”

“Yeah, the problem got solved. At the time, Chimera and other company, maybe Harmony, were working on life memory storage, part of an AI scheme, according to the press, anyway. They quantified the amount of memory lost, a bit of guessing but there were a lot of victims to get the idea - and determined that the cause of the stolen memories was technical, as only allotted amounts could be stored at a time. So let’s say an elderly rich guy who’s seen the world gets hit, he might lose a single day of holiday, or an equivalent quantity – let's say number that 24 - in a string of boring activity, like a really dull work work. Take the same 24 from a kid who’s live a sheltered life and he could lose a year. Call 24 one ‘block’. If the hole takes more, it will take another whole block - but not something in between - it multiplies – 42, 84 and so on. The amounts taken by the Memory Holes actually had a more complex formula. And it only took consecutive memories, but the premise was the same. Chimera determined it was definitely something technical.”

“So… did the cops get some programmers to hack it? I don’t know anything about computers, god, if that even made sense,” Sao laughed. If the problem was gone, laughing felt alright.

“Not exactly. Chimera didn’t exactly propose a solution and for a while the cops were too afraid to get drained themselves. But letting the problem continue gave Chimera a chance to really study it. The funny part - or the dangerous part was if you lost a more ‘valuable’ memory, less of the overall memory was removed. Turns out severe trauma is valuable, more than bank codes or safe keys, apparently storing a track of long-running emotions is hard on the computer. Just like in the movies, right? So you would have all kinds of people actually looking for the Memory Holes, trying to rid themselves of something horrible in their lives - and they would be the ones who got off in the best condition. The bad memories filled up a 1000-block quota easy and the victim walked of with their mind that much clearer.”

“It’s nice to know at least some good came of this. Not something you can say for a lot of the ‘epidemics’.”

“Even kids - some mis-judged their situation and had their lives cut in half over a bad break-up, but there were a hell of a lot who came out - relatively speaking - fine. Five years off a child when a normal teenager would be getting ten - how much happened to one kid in those five years to make their trauma worth double? It that meant something of great importance had happened to them, that they wanted to forget. And there’s a good chance that they had been victims of some other crimes that they would no longer remember.

“Five years, you say.”

“Irrelevant to your memory loss. Like I said, it was probably after your time.” Rai sighed. “Still, to see those memories, catch those who acted against children. Wherever the memories are, they would have been a goldmine, a legal minefield sure, and who knows how memories even get taken off a disk, but imagine… Of course, nobody knew where the memories were being stored.”

“They weren’t found when the case was solved?”

Rai smiled sharply. “The Memory Holes were stopped, I don’t know if you could call the case solved. Chimera were right about the storage method, but the ‘how’ and ‘where’ were a mystery until an accident occurred. The holes were opened by a magician, and transferred through him - that’s the official statement. Yes, it was a human, but there are no known spells for that kind of thing and even if he was dealing in unregistered magic, he had no magic materials on his person. So you tell me what that sounds like.”

Sao was not equipped to handle a puzzle at this time. He stroked his jacket lapel thoughtfully. “Uh, it’s not something common, is it.”

“Someone who’s affecting memories, no probes and no wires. Someone who can get into the mind and manipulate it…”

“A psychic?”

“Yes.” Rai clapped his gloves together.

“Do those even exist?” Sao crossed his arms. “I imagine there would be a whole lot more than spurts of amnesia of people capable of such things were… confirmed.”

“Really. Then get this, the one who cracked the case was also another ‘unconfirmed being.’ Middle of the day on an empty street, the psychic crosses paths with a Life Fountain. A big one, over 820 years old, just visiting some relatives. Again, that’s just according to the press. And maybe the psychic is greedy, or maybe he lost control, but he decided to take a chunk out of this thing’s memory, and then it was just -” Rai lifted his hands to the air. “All over for him.”

“You mean...”

“Took too much. His brain fried right there, overloaded where he stood. Whatever he tried to take out of those 820 years, it was too much, blood vessels in his head burst and his heart stopped. People saw the Hole’s signature purple flash that day but, in that last instance, nobody was affected but the Life Fountain. And the perpetrator, of course. The police found him dead next to the confused final ‘victim.’ Mouth wide open, eyes popping out of their sockets. Brain nothing but gray slush. In that state, the researchers couldn’t study how he did it. But at least he was stopped.”

Sao whistled. “Life Fountains, huh. I can see why they’re needed on the force.”

“They’re underused, if anything.”

“I don’t know. That story of yours is somewhat frightening. Something more potent than a human-computer psychic? Good lord.”

Rai frowned. “You hesitated saying you were scared of this place, of Marina’s situation. But the thought of a Life Fountain makes you admit it freely?”

“Seems so. I suppose that's what immediately came to me.” Sao felt his fatigue threatening to take over. “Common criminals and empty hallways - compared to immortals that can end lives during a casual stroll, it’s different. The mystery surrounding them, though. It’s hard to make a proper judgment - maybe that’s what’s frightening.”

Rai’s face sank into a frown at this, but he fell back. “The TV, the press, the internal reports, they’re saying all the wrong things about the LFs. You should know, the 800-year old who ended the Memory Hole epidemic, he was found at the scene because he had lost maybe 80 years of recent memory. Do you know what that means?”

“Sounds like quite a haul.”

“It’s a lot of years, but the value? The value of a Life Fountain’s years, what they do with their time, what they see and feel compared to humans - it’s nothing. The Holes took 4 years from a traumatized kid, and then both walk off easy. But 80 years off a Life Fountain and the culprit died - he could have taken more, he was going to. Why's 4 years from a regular person 80 years to an LF? Because it was 80 years of hollow, brainless nothing. Life Fountains sound potent, but they’re not much in reality. Just errors in a system.”

It was so close to common slur-slinging that Sao felt tempted to argue. It was so tempting it must be a trap. No, instead he closed his eyes and simply shook his head. What could he even do to defend some creatures he’d never even seen?

Rai scowled and returned to his futile vigil at the fire door window. “As long as we’re talking scary persisting mysteries: theoretically the computer storing all those memories is still out there. If it hasn’t burned its battery or been destroyed in some other way. If the Life Fountain’s memories didn’t make it in and fry the motherboard like its owner.”

The wind whistled through the tiny passage of the open window. Upstairs, someone slammed one of the fire doors. Sao walked up to the window, hoping the cool air would help him stay awake. It wasn’t too effective.

Below, a vast sea of flat concrete. Unused, too. It seemed like a waste. A mall would be nice, but why not grow some grass until then?

“Have you thought about the puzzle I gave you last week?” Rai asked. His voice sounded strangely distant. Sao yawned.

“Hey,” Rai said.

“I’ve been thinking about it. Haven’t had time to read the extra materials I requested.”

“Alright. I can see it's going to take a back burner for now.” Rai remained against the wall, but pushed open one of the doors. “Why don’t you go home?”

“I can stay out a while longer. It’s still early.”

“It will take an hour or more for you to get back into the city, won’t it? You look tired.”

“You must be too…?” Sao’s voice crawled to a self-questioning halt as Rai stared knives at him. “That’s right. No sleep. No rest for the weary.”

“No rest for the wicked, either. So I’ll keep watching a little longer. And then I have a couple other things to take care of.”

“Hah.” The shabby hallway, which had looked so unfriendly upon their arrival, now looked invitingly warm. “Okay, I get it.” Sao moved to hold the door open for himself. “Let me know if anyone turns up, alright?”

“Yeah. We’ll regroup tomorrow.”

“Don’t wait that long. You never know. If Marina herself re-appears for some reason or another, don't hesitate...” Sao threw his hands up. “The disappearance chain might just keep going.”

“Of course, if she appears I’ll let you and Zen know.”

“Well yes, but if you end up vanishing along with her, that’s--”

“Just go home,” Rai ordered.

---

And he did, he was on the dull paisley carpet path home, until her door swept by.

The empty house. Unless it wasn't. But if not, where was she? If she was in there, why would she not answer? He would not be able to sleep with such thoughts.

It was too bad about the locks. If it were just the single rusty keyhole, then maybe an old tenant, or past landlord could help, maybe even he on his own could...

He stared. Stood under the blinking bulb. He gave the door another passive knock to no response. The bulb kept blinking, intermittently leaving him in darkness, resetting the surroundings to the same place, as if keeping Marina’s return at bay. He had the inexplicable feeling that when it went out she might return, as he remembered.

He waited.

Rai did not leave his post at the fire exit, did not intrude on his thoughts. Perhaps he was being reset too.

The buzzing overhead seemed to be rising in pitch. He looked down the hall, one door at a time. The locks grew tinier and flimsier the futher his eye strayed. They looked eminently pickable. It was an awful itch, plague-like, to be considering such action. But some condolence to his dignity - there was no action to be taken. Yes, some of the doors could probably be forced – but not the one he most wanted to see through.

Besides, Rai was watching. Buzz, flicker. He felt more than Rai's eyes on him. Flicker. Perhaps he should knock again, after ten counts...

Four flickers in, he lifted his head and caught sight of a figure. His throat clenched.

This was not the ethereal spirit he would hope to see in an the carpeted hall of an antiquated slum high-rise. No, the woman who had entered the hall was very much substantial and a subject of modern woes, not a bit of phantasmic glow about her. He imagined her between late forties to sixty, and her face resembled a paper bag, crumpled and angular. She was knocking a fist against one of the doors down the hall, with no more response than he had gotten. He was automatically sorry yet mortified.

Realizing that she was being watched, the woman turned. She held a long implement that glinted like an enormous blade. When she closed in, he saw it was an aluminum baseball bat.

“You the kid that’s been pissing down the walls?” she snapped.

“I’m sorry?”

“I know your type,” she muttered. “Think the kind of people who live in a place like this are beneath you. And just deserve your piss and trash smeared all down their windows. Napkins. Spunk-covered napkins, just out the window like some kind of animal. You people are disgusting.”

“I’m sorry,” Sao said again, backing towards the light of the elevator hall, “I don’t live here. I was visiting a friend, but I think I’m on the wrong floor.”

“All that racket too, no shame. I have migraines, you know.” Her face appeared to be crunching into a jagged ball, as paper did when compressed. “All the banging and chittering echoes way down the stairs, you know. What you doing in there? Smoking? This is a no-smoking building.”

“Of course not. I assure you, I'm only looking for the right flat. This is my first time here,” He wondered at how far his fire escape conversation had travelled. “I think I’m in the wrong place.”

“You live here?” she pointed vaguely down the hall.

“I'm a visitor, but asI said--”

The lightbulb continued to flicker with an accusatory buzz. Sao saw Rai peeking through the fire escape's small meshed window. The old woman caught it too.

“Another one,” she breathed hotly, and stalked towards the fire doors. “I should call the cops.”

“By all means do, if you think there’s anything wrong,” Sao said, skittering down the hall in the opposite direction. “Anything at all.”