The phone ringing. Again.

Again! Sao snapped upright.

Thankfully, he wasn’t in the office. He was at home in bed. Behind the ghost-white curtains, he saw the cool shade of night; a bright, chilly moon high above; the diminished lights of the city dotting the lower level of darkness like blocky stars. The nights had grown longer since the solstice, and mornings could be ominously dark, but his clock confirmed one thing: no, it was most definitely not an office hour.

But lord, was the ringer loud. He had only turned it up the volume so he wouldn’t miss the morning alarm, but this was no preplanned alarm. It was an intrusion, a sly trick by some malicious caller to use that temporarily raised volume to catch him at his weakest. Well, the caller could drain themselves dry for all he cared. Sao swaddled himself in the comforter and tried to get back to sleep. But the noise went on. And the infant in the apartment upstairs began to bawl. And then the parents began barreling from room to room in hasty efforts to settle the child. They had leapt right into action. And there he was, the root of all problems, just lying in bed.

Sao hauled himself to the dresser and slumped over it, pawing for the phone.

“Hello?” he croaked.

“Hey Sao. How’s it going? You are you busy at the moment? Do you think you have time to come out?”

“Rai? It’s - it’s 5am.”

“Does that mean… huh.”

Sao’s eyelids took a short break while he waited for Rai to work through the concept of normal sleeping hours. Upstairs, the neighbors were still desperately pacing the length of their flat, nursery to kitchen, nursery to bathroom, nursery to master bed, stopping at nothing…

“Rai? Hello, are you still there? I’m awake now. You have news?”

“Locke just got home, I saw him drive in. He’s in the house right now. I want to catch him before he has time to make up some stupid story or run off again.”

“You’ve been watching his house?”

“A neighbor said he was making a racket coming home late, and called the cops. Didn’t realize Locke was supposedly missing.”

“How fortunate. But I thought we weren’t headed there until the day after...”

“It’s already the day after.”

“God. You’re right. I forgot.” Sao’s eyes were throbbing. “What in the world could he have been doing to get home at 5 in the morning?”

“Drinking. Visiting a girlfriend. Hiding from invisible debt collectors. If - and that’s a hard 'if' - if Marina’s telling the truth the latter might really be the case. We’ll know once we get the jump on him.”

Sao slumped lower, his arm hanging off the dresser's edge. Jumping in any form seemed impossible in his current state.

“Can you be ready in 15? I’ll get someone on the night watch to drive you over. That works out for the better, actually, if you come in with a patrol car we’ll have a full-fledged officer with the right tools around to detain him. I’ll have them drop you off a block away so Locke doesn’t get spooked, you’ll have to walk a little. The weather’s fine but bring a coat. I sent you the address earlier. You don’t have to get dolled up this time - well, unless you want to.”

Rai’s words were scattering against his ear like a flurry of snow, he couldn’t grasp any of the points properly.

“It might interest you that he came in driving a silver sedan. Nothing special, but isn’t that the same kind you saw Marina in?”

The clouds in his eyes were flushed. He pulled a fresh shirt from the dresser.

“Sao. You still there?”

“I hear you. I’ll get dressed right away. Tell the night patrolman that I’ll be by the estate bus stop.”

---

The patrol car was already waiting to collect him, and jetted towards the bridge. The officer was tired, and with a few words of thanks, Sao left him to focus his efforts on the road, and staying awake.

The night still lay heavily over the city. He had never gotten such a clear view of the bridge before. A daytime creature at heart (and lover of a good night’s sleep) it seemed like another planet to him, smooth and blue. The streets were barren - fascinatingly so but not lifeless. Lamps still flickered, trees and hedges rustled with unobstructed winds. Buses and convenience stores, glaring with their white lights, were still running steady but he did not see a soul within them. Silent, inhuman guardians waiting for their masters to return.

Locke’s home residence too, seemed to have achieved a strange peace.

The officers who accompanied Rai were leaving as soon as Sao arrived, walking up from the corner where the squad car had left him. The officers lumbered off the garden path and onto the concrete, exhausted, and he automatically felt a pang of guilt for having them there. They would be off shift soon, and even though they had time to rest in the day, he did not envy their patrol of the city at its loneliest time. It could only be enchanting for so long.

Rai was cross armed on Locke’s extended porch, watching the officers go. The tranquility of the hour apparently had no effect on him. His glower was monstrous.

Sao glanced over the driveway. There was, as Rai had reported, a small silver sedan parked on the gravel.

“Is Mr. Locke still in?”

“He’s in there alright. He’s been 'found'.” Rai gritted his teeth. “No longer a fucking missing person. That’s great. Fantastic.”

“You mean he’s already been cleared by the officers? Are you sure?”

“By request of the man himself.”

Lights were on in the house, faintly orange. Sao though he saw movement behind the dense wall of curtain in the window beside the hardwood door.

“I’d say that a good thing, but I’m guessing there’s more to this than meets the eye,” Sao mused.

“Same as Oliver and your girl Marina. Eager to get the cops off, but definitely aren’t eager to get back into contact with those looking, and like hell we’re going to see him back at his job tomorrow. Wants to start a new life, with new people, I’m too ashamed to go back, etcetera. You’ve heard it before. Tell me, how’s a new life going to pay for a mansion like this?”

The house was not a mansion, but it was definitely a pricey sight.

“It’s all too convenient. For them,” Rai said.

“He doesn’t still think he’s being chased by moneylenders, does he?”

“Don’t think so, but it isn’t stopping him from being ridiculous.” Rai exhaled a hot puff of air. “Why don’t you give him a few words yourself?”

“If he’s been questioned already, there’s no need for me to do it again.”

“Those cops were a waste of time. Half asleep. They don’t want to do anything about him, they just wanted out as soon as they walked in. You can do better.” Rai approached the door and muttered, “There’s a couple points I want to check, too.”

“If there’s anything you want me to ask-”

“I just need his guard down. Get ready to entertain.”

Sao did not have time to ask more before Rai began banging his fist against the door. He did so with such force it shook the floorboards. No regard for the neighbors at all, but the houses in the neighborhood were so generously spaced it likely did not matter. Sao found himself looking at the lawn. There were elegant gold lamps lining the path from the street to the front door, with similar gold-painted lawn furniture, chairs and a metal-framed table with a glass top. The garage was a bold block of yellow. Sao smiled. A golden boy. The silver sedan did not quite match the decor.

But then, he did not know the man. What kind of person was Locke? Of the missing trio, he was the only one Sao had not met.

Locke waited for a pause in Rai’s vigorous knocking to open the door. “Why are you people still here? I thought you were going to the station to take me off the list.”

Sao almost backed all the way down the steps. The door had opened to a miasma of cologne - citrus, firewood, must, sweat, rot, whatever - all rushing out so quickly they combined into a single soupy smog. It spewed forth in a burst so potent Sao felt as if he were being attacked with a garden hose.

Rai lodged himself in the doorway, undeterred. “The officers have gone to do as you asked. But me and my colleague here have a few questions about a separate investigation. My colleague in particular.”

Locke’s brown eyes rested on Sao. He had a round, gentle face, marred slightly by red blotches and sweat, and seemed surprised to see a newcomer. He also had a tissue held up to his face, and coughed into it courteously. The expression he made for Rai was not so pleasant.

“Look, detective, this isn’t a good time. It’s late.”

“It’s actually early,” Rai corrected him.

“Sorry to wake you. I had some trouble making it over in time for the earlier interview,” Sao said. “We won’t take up much more of your time.”

Locke didn’t respond, but was looking at him with his wide, sickly eyes again, tentatively curious.

“I know this isn’t the best way to end the night, but I’ll make it quick. Perhaps you would be more comfortable talking inside?”

“What exactly do you want?”

“I was hoping you had some information that would help us clear up another missing persons case.” Sao set a hand lightly on the doorframe, and Rai shifted back. “Don’t worry -- the person in question is safe. You aren’t in any trouble, we’d just like to confirm a few things. The sooner we get things cleared up, the sooner you can both sleep, and sleep easy.”

He smiled. Locke stood entranced, and then opened the door wide. He was still blocking their entry, but was no longer hiding, poised to slam it shut. The smell had dissipated slightly, so Sao was able to face the doorway in full, sizing up Locke’s ailing frame, which was cocooned in an oversized powder-yellow robe.

“Is this about Marina?” Locke asked.

“Yes. I’ve been close to her case, and I feel it will be wrapped up soon, but there are just few more questions. You know her, I presume.”

“Yeah, we… okay. If I can help her, I can talk for a while…” Locke began to move away from the door, but paused, blew his nose. “But… is it alright if I only speak to you privately? He can wait by the door.”

Sao’s smile lingered. “If you prefer, but I think he would also appreciate hearing all of the doubt in this case being cleared-”

Locke twitched, considering this.

But Rai crossed his arms and said, “If it will get you to talk any faster, then fine, I’ll just stay right here. But leave the door open.”

Sao stepped up before Locke could argue more. “Sounds like a good compromise. How about those seats under the staircase? They look sufficiently private.”

“Oh. Yes, that will work. Thanks.” Locke hurried to pull the seats out. Sao entered the hall. The malcontent cologne, air freshener, whatever that was, closed in on them as he walked further in. Rai remained cross-armed at the door behind him, fading into the shadows. Sao brushed at his agitated nose. Perhaps Rai had made the smarter choice to stand in breathable air.

Locke held out an arm.

“Here you go. Sorry about the smell. There was something in the pipes when I got back from my trip a while ago, and I thought I’d try to cover it up. But I sprayed too much... uh...”

“No problem,” Sao said, though he was trying not to take deep breaths.

At Locke’s beckoning Sao settled in one of the stiff arch-back chairs. They were the ornamental kind, not comfortable, but convenient – unsettlingly so. In fact, he’d suggested them because all the other doors in the hallway were closed. Had Locke offered to get drinks, he (or Rai) could have cracked a few of the rooms open for a quick look. But Locke wasn’t in the mood, and from the looks of his coughs, Sao wasn’t sure he wanted his hands preparing food or drink.

Locke sent a stream of wet wheezes into his tissue.

“Before we start, I have to ask: are you feeling alright?“ Sao asked. “I heard from Marina that you were ill the last time you met.”

“It’s nothing - well, not nothing, I’m getting better. I picked up a killer flu or some other bug when I was out of town. And Marina - right,” Locke tried to laugh. “I spotted her at a restaurant, warehouse area, the one with the nice view. My stomach wasn’t well that day, and I uh… well, that probably scared her more than the whole debt collector incident.”

“The restaurant staff certainly had a story to tell. But I'm sure the specifics of your departure that night don't need dredging up. What I want to ask is, what were you doing there?”

“I was really out of it those weeks. I just took a bus out and wound up there.” Locke shook his head. “I thought someone was after me. Following me, you know? I took a lot of detours, avoiding the office, avoiding calls, taking the long way home, stopping off wherever I could. For some reason, I thought of these collectors from a long time back...”

“Debt collectors.”

Locke nodded. “And I’d had a bit to drink; that and the paranoia and rushing around - I might have exaggerated to her a bit. I really thought I saw someone waiting for me at the entrance, so I probably looked really suspicious trying to talk her into leaving with me some other way.”

“That was where she was last seen before she went missing, you know.”

“I’m sorry. I can explain. After I, uh, emptied my stomach, I got really worried, that I had to have attracted attention. So I asked her to go onto the balcony with me, where I really started babbling and got her upset too, and - don’t laugh at this.”

“Go on...”

“There’s a pipe on the side of the building, and a ladder on the lower floor. We went down that way. Like a couple of monkeys.”

Both Locke and Marina were embarrassed by their impromptu escape method. It must really have been a sight to see. Sao smiled. He must have pulled off a nice one because now Locke smiled back, then went red and turned. “We got down in the alleyway. Then we left in the car.”

“Were you using the car that's sitting in the driveway now?”

Locke’s smile faded. “No that… that one’s new. Another stupid decision I made when I thought I was being chased. I didn’t use it for much, I tried to use the bus. With a crowd, witnesses or something, I thought I’d be safer...”

“I see. So not many people would have seen this new car.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Sao made a futile attempt to get comfortable on the unwavering block of chair cushion. “Excuse me for dragging this out, but I’ve been wondering how you got to know Marina. You must have been close, because I think I saw her in your car, and of course, she believed you immediately in regard to those debt collectors, enough to go missing along with you. How did that get started?”

“It’s another embarrassing story. Do you mind…?”

“Please. I’m sorry if it's difficult, but it would really help clarify the situation on the whole. Which will, in turn, convince my friend out there that there’s nothing fishy about wanting to get off the missing persons list.”

Locke twisted the tissue in his hands. “I do want to help. But I also want to get away, if that makes sense.”

“I think it does. You’re considering a move out of the city, from this after it’s all over?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“One of the officers let slip. I don’t blame you. But let’s get the loose ends tied up first. A messy tail can unwind over time, no matter how far you go. So, please.”

“You’re right.” Locke nodded firmly, though his face had become distinctly grayer than when they started. “How did it start… we all came to the city at the same time, about… ten years ago? No, it was probably more… I came to the city on my own for college. That's when we met. We each came by train, it was actually the same train. We were sat together, so we got talking, because we were all coming alone without family, you know, and all in a bind when it came to money. Hard to believe now, right? I've got it all now."

Sao set an arm on the gold-flecked armrest. Feet on some high-grade pearlescent tiles, against a winding staircase, under an intricate gold chain chandelier. “Everyone starts somewhere. You’ve come a long way.”

“We all did, climbed up from... nothing. It's a time that's hard to think about, but you can't let it go and the people you know, well you may not love what they know but that's what makes your connection so strong. That’s probably why she agreed to talk to me after so long, we have that bond. But I really messed things up for her… anyway, at the station there was a stall that had a really good lending and selling rate. I spotted it first. Some kind of trading post, though in retrospect we should have known it was a scam, targeting newcomers in particular. The guy there said he’d give up a special deal, just a couple thousand, as a welcome to the city. Being fresh off the train, never seen the city before, it sounded great. The man had an accent, he was sort of tall, brown haired-”

“Did you see him coming after you these last few months?”

“No.”

“Did he ever call? Come to collect in those early days?”

“No. We did give him our phone numbers - we weren’t bright then - and once or twice I did get calls from unrelated sources, and a few creepy ones, but they came to nothing. When I got a… a good job, I learned to turn them off. I don’t know if he ever called the others.”

“Sounds like a setup to mine contact info. Though I don’t know why they’d target new arrivals.” Sao regarded the chandelier. The sharp points hung over him expectantly. “Stalls at Central’s big stations have a lightning fast turnover rate. And it’s been a decade or more, you said. This shop will be hard to find if you don’t happen to have a receipt or name on hand.”

“It was so long ago. My memory isn’t fantastic, but the place didn’t look official, either. Like a bum had set up a box next to a bunch of other stores. God, I was an idiot back then…”

“There’s still one more thing. What made you think this company, or person, had come to collect, after all these years?”

“Ah - I didn’t say it yet, did I? There was a third person who bought into the deal - or the scam, whatever it was - along with us. A couple months ago, before I saw Marina again, before I went on my trip, I ran into him at some party. A dance, not like a club but an expensive place, having an event. It was dark, but they had the flashing lights up. He was the one who got me all worked up. His name.. He’s a pretty guy, always in suits, with the gold hair streaks, I think Marina said he was missing - Oliver?”

“Oliver. He had a bit of a brush with the law as well, I heard.”

“And he’s…”

“Well, as far as we can tell, he’s just fine.”

“That’s a relief.” Locke laughed, clearer this time. “He was panicking, going out of his mind when we last spoke.”

“Do you know what made him that way?

“No. Maybe he was high, saw something, or maybe he was in his own trouble but mistook it for something else. Later he got me to join him out a back door because he thought the entrance was being watched. When I think back, he must have been in the same boat as me. Worrying over nothing. Especially if he took himself off the missing list. I wonder if he’ll be trying to start fresh too?”

According to Rai, no doubt all three were going to conveniently do just that. Sao strained his neck for a look down the hall. The door was open, a rectangle of airy black, spotted with golden lawn lamps, but Rai was no longer there.

“Were you with anyone at the party?” Sao asked.

“I don’t remember… we spoke to several people there, but…”

“Alright. Have you seen him since then?”

“No. I mean… I left with him right after, we came out of the fire door and he took me home, I went on my trip, and when I came back it was just me and Marina. I think. I’m sorry. This has been a total disaster. I’ve caused so much trouble.”

“You were scared for your life, and trying to warn a friend. Don’t apologize. This has actually been quite helpful. Marina will be grateful.”

“Still, after all this. I ruined her life.”

“She didn’t seem too upset,” Sao said. “I’ve heard she’s planning to take some time away, start things anew as well.”

“Not a bad idea. She mentioned that to me too. You know, she was the one who was let me know I was being an idiot, dodging around because of something that probably never existed.” Locke eyed him with sudden clarity. “She said she talked it through with a friend who made her see otherwise. There was never any proof that anyone was after us, other than our own panicked chain of rumors. She was so convinced by this sensible friend that she got in touch with me immediately, even though it was probably 2am at the time. She wanted to get the whole nightmare over with.”

“I hope that puts an end to the chain of rumors, then.”

“Yes. No more loose threads.” Locke pulled his robe around him as if it too had been trying to unravel around him. “I just need to get off the missing persons list before I can face anyone.”

“Ah - starting completely anew is hard, isn’t it?”

“You know from experience?” Locke smiled at him under a few loose brown hairs. “No. I shouldn’t be asking an officer that.”

“I suppose I deserve it, after asking so many questions myself.”

“Just your job, right? So… is there anything else I can do to help?”

They rose, and headed down the hall. The floorboards made virtually no noise, they were some considerably solid wood, rich and solid as any stone. But like a heating system, Sao thought they could use some give. It afforded a bit of comfort.

He could have used some comfort after that interview.

They arrived at the door, and before he could say anymore, Locke ran up to the edge of the night, looking out to the empty steps. The lights on the lawn blinked sleepily at them. Almost done with their duties; the sun was beginning to rise. “Where is the other officer?” Locke gasped. He had winded himself just coming up the hall.

Sao shook his head. “He’s too much sometimes. Hey, Rai? You said you were waiting-”

“I’m right here.” Rai had been leaning against the wall beside the door. He turned on his heel and walked right in, forcing Locke and Sao to back up, back onto the golden-brown wood, into the smog of cologne.

Rai loomed in the doorway, incorrigible as a house cat that couldn’t decide if it wanted in or out. Not such a joke to Locke, who continued backing away. Sao smiled, slowly turning from one to another but not sure where to land.

“You’re done here?” Rai asked.

“Yes. Everything seems to be in order. We’ll have to let Marina know it’s all clear.” Sao nodded, head low. Hopefully Rai caught the signal - they had more to discuss.

But whether or not he did, Rai did not turn to leave. Headlights set on Locke, he smiled his most scathing and said, “Good to know. Can I just ask one more question of my own before we head out?”

Hand already on the door, Sao shrugged. “I suppose so. You might - where are you going?”

Rai stepped past him. His boot managed to elicit a squeak from those previously unmoving wooden planks. “Sorry to disturb you further, Mr. Locke.”

I haven’t even started and I intend to disturb. Rai - watch your words. Sao could have groaned his way out then and there.

“Nice place. We’ll leave you to it soon. But what I need to ask you right now is: can you show me your arms?”

“I’d rather not,” Locke said immediately. “Please leave.”

Rai remained where he was. Locke’s desperate eyes turned to Sao. His face was blanched, with deep shadows nearly as hard as Rai’s.

“Don’t look at him,” Rai said. “He can't help you. Or is there something you don’t want me to know?”

“This is why I didn’t want you in here. This is bad for you too, you know. I could report you. You probably get that a lot.”

With Rai’s back turned to him, Sao could not see his face. He must have been ready to go for Locke’s throat. When he moved forward, it was like the air was pulled along with him.

“Rai.” Sao said.

“A wild temp-cop like you, you can’t afford to do this, right? I bet you’re just… a step away from suspension.” Locke had his arms firmly locked around his sides. “After you broke into that last place, how will this look?”

“Is that another joke you got out of Marina?”

“What? I--”

“She knows who I am now. I can only assume she told you, or else how would you know? Where is she now, by the way? Home? If I go there, will I find her safe in bed?”

“How is that--” Locke strugged in his enourmous robe. “Yes, if she's home. She might not answer at this time of night--”

“Really? I can knock pretty loud. Or did she happen to be heading out as you left her? 5 in the morning is kind of an off hour to be looking for a date, but what do I know? Maybe she's meeting with Mr. Oliver. The scumbag ran from the cops the other day, did she tell you that too? And Locke too, maybe that's how they are. Rich people thinking they can get away with things, Locke's an architect, right?”

“Actually, Locke's a--” Locke started to say.

Rai stiffened. Then he swiveled onto Sao. It took awhile to get around the spikes of his bloodshot glare, a while for the realization to bubble up.

“Did he say--” Sao stuttered. His words blanked as Locke’s arms, still doubly cloaked in the thick robe and long-sleeved shirt, lashed out like whips and grabbed Rai by the back - hood and jacket - and swung him like a log. One wide arc, and then Rai went flying to the back of the hall.

Rai hit the ground and slid across the perfectly smooth floor until he was stopped by one of one of those ornamental chairs. His head hit the corner with a monumental CRACK. The obnoxiously heavy chair felt barely a vibration, but as he amassed at the foot of the claw-carved legs, Rai curled into a writhing pile.

At least he was still moving.

Locke charged forward. He was as haggard as he had been, perhaps more, but seemed to be moving with energy beyond his means.

Sao realized he was standing right in Locke’s path.

Three steps away. Close the door.

Locke’s hand, thin, trimmed, but impossibly strong, wrenched the door open, sending it swinging, the knob smashing into the gold-flecked wall.

One step. Sao steeled his stomach and made a grab. He felt the thick furred fabric under his hands.

Now Locke was right on him. He backed away, made some space - not fast enough. As he did, something odd followed. Locke’s bare hand was outstretched, palm to his face, forcing him back. Reddened skin inches from his nose. He was trying to touch Sao's face.

Sao felt fingertips just barely flick against his hair and teetered. Locke’s robe swung loose, revealing what looked like a pair of shorts, paired with a tight white button-up shirt. Sao’s feet stumbled in an awkward zigzag until he finally landed, back pressing the gold-painted bar fence of the front porch.

“Sorry,” Locke said. Despite his maneuvers, he still looked ill. And yet he hit the lawn with a race horse's gait, stopping only once he hit the car door. He caught the handle, and flung it open.

Sao could smell the sour sweat that had been streaking off Locke’s palm. By the time he stood it was already too late. The silver car flew out the driveway and down the street, into the distant dark.

He was left standing with the robe, which hung like a dead animal in his hands. No use now.

A movement behind him sent him spinning. The robe fell to the grass, along with a shower of used tissue that had been caught in the folds.

“The hell was that guy’s job again? Professional cage fighter?” Rai was muttering. He had pulled open one of the sliding doors to a side room, one that had been closed by Locke.

“Are you really cracking jokes after all that?” Sao took a final useless look at the street. “Never mind. Are you alright?”

Rai didn’t answer, but checked another door, further down the hall.

“I’m sorry, Rai. I…”

“You tried, right? Then leave it at that.”

“I should have warned you there was something wrong.”

“You think I couldn’t have seen that on my own, the second he misplaced his own name and that was his gut reaction? Talk about new starts, forget Marina leaving town over some bullshit, this guy...” Rai dusted his jacket off, though it remained patched with dirt. “Fact is, we both fucked up. And so did those idiot excuses for officers from earlier. Dragging their heels all the way here, but they sure left the scene as fast as they could.”

“I’ll call them back. I mean… I’ll call someone. And get them to take it seriously. This was an assault.”

Rai nodded. He came out to the doorway and surveyed the scene himself. The wide, tranquil lawn was all that faced him. He took a step out. Despite the blow to his head he was completely steady on his feet, and considerably more focused than Sao was feeling at present. Rai strode out over the grass and to the driveway.

Sao pressed his phone to his ear. The night-time dispatcher turned out to be an old friend. “Been a while, hasn’t it?” Sao sighed. “...no, you could say I’m up extra-early. Hey, can you do me a favor and find someone good to pick up this mess? My supervisor and I just witnessed something ugly, we’ve got a runaway suspect, just left, and we need an ambulance. The address...”

His mouth was running cordially without his brain to support it. He wasn’t feeling particularly sentient at the moment, and the one person he really had to talk to was thoroughly occupied. Following Rai like a shadow, he circled the garage, the perfectly symmetrical lawn table setup, and finally came to loom over the dirt of the driveway.

The sun rose. The house reeked. The stormcloud of cologne dissipated, uncloaking the mottled, sour odor of decay.

Under the first specks of daylight, Rai pressed a napkin to the ground and picked up a spot of some tacky, reddish-brown substance.

---

“Blood on the driveway, the smell in the house, signs of a cleanup - things don’t look good for Mr. Locke. If he ever turns up, it's over for him.”

Rai was frothing at the morning’s events, while at the same time picking away at a new report. The office had been mercifully warm when they unlocked the door, and they were now settled at their usual posts. Things had been quiet for a while, the sunlight streaming in, the floorboards creaking happily, as if it were an ordinary morning. It was Rai and Sao who had fallen out of sync.

They had more of a workload waiting - thanks in part to the week’s sidetracking - and they had only picked up light breakfast from a convenience store - not Sao’s norm. And of course, there was the matter of Locke, who was now missing again, with some suspicious circumstances. The strained silence bubbled and churned until a brief respite at midday.

Rai slammed at his keyboard and took focus. “Finally.”

Sao turned. “Any news?”

“Not yet. We just know nobody else was found in the house. Alive or dead. Hell of a smell though.”

“No bodies. That’s… good?”

“Are you sure you didn’t pick up on anything strange when you were in the car with Marina earlier that night?” Rai asked, almost absently.

Sao felt he was melting where he sat. “No. It was dark, I wasn’t looking about with much care since she was sitting so close, but I think I would have smelled something dead if-”

“Alright, alright. No, that makes sense. Locke’s neighbors said he was making a racket when he came in. Slamming and thumping. That must have been the time he loaded… whatever the dead thing was, into the car. Long after Marina took you home.” Rai tapped the desk in thought.

“Do we know what – who’s - blood it was on the ground?”

“Not yet, but I’d say things don’t look good for Marina either.”

Sao shut his mouth.

“After she left you, she headed out with Locke - according to him. And she was riding around in that car when you last saw her. So they were both in that car before the end of the night.”

“What you mean is, that could have been her blood.”

Rai raised his eyes from his screen for the second time in hours (the first had been to go grab the vat of coffee.) He frowned at the ceiling. “The blood was just one part of the scene. It was pretty dark, I don’t know what the conditions in the house were but it didn’t look too fresh. The smell too, after that disgusting perfume got aired out, there was something old and dead in there - definitely over a day. But Marina was running around just a couple hours earlier, she wasn't the source of the smell. So she could still be alive.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Are you still planning to meet her tonight if so?”

“I don’t know. She’s not answering any calls, though who knows if she gave me a legitimate number at all. She’s involved, Locke’s missing, and the blood and smell means someone is still dead.”

“Or something. It could have been a pet or a hunting trophy he didn’t clean up. It could have been rats, some pest that came into the house while he was on his ‘trip’ and died in the vents.”

“It... it really doesn't look good." Sao looked down. "So you remembered the part about the ‘trip’. But there’s no way you believe he sped off with just a dead pet in the trunk. What in the world was he thinking?”

Rai snorted. “Tell me what you picked up. You were watching his expression at the time.”

“That wasn’t as helpful as it sounds. It bothers me that so much he said did match up with Marina’s story. She must have told him more than I would have liked… more than expected. He tried to put his hand on my face, to push me back. He must have known about my condition. And he said you were a step away from suspension, that you had the tendency to be reported. That was something I said to Marina to make her feel at ease, because she said she saw you around Oliver’s escape. Fabricated, of course.”

Rai did not react to this.

“Even if Marina and Locke agreed on it, why such a misshapen story? Three people, working professionals in the city, all dropped their lives instantly to some sudden rumor about an inconsequential debt that they'd surely be able to pay off or even fight off, with their standing. Then just as suddenly they decided it was silly, time to pick up and leave out of embarrassment?”

“You’re including Oliver in this group.”

“He came up.”

“Since he’s been missing a while, things don’t look good for him either. Though, thanks to the dimwits down at the main office, he’s officially, on paper, found. Safe and sound,” Rai growled. “When his body turns up, get ready for some finger pointing. If his body turns up. We can hope that it won’t, but...”

“Whatever the truth is, he’s involved somehow.” Sao released a long sigh. ”Either there’s something strange at hand, or the the rich really are a load of incomprehensible aliens.”

“No shit. That guy’s house, I almost went blind looking at all the gold.”

Sao laughed. It felt flat for its efforts.

“Is speaking in third person also a rich person's habit?”

“I don't know. Like I said, it seemed like a slip-up, though his reaction...” Sao glanced over. “How’s your head, by the way?”

“It’s fine. Just a bump.”

It had been more of a gut-churning crack, but Rai did not seem to care. “And your hand?”

“What about it?”

Similarly, Rai had gone about his typing and annotating without any sign of a bisected hand. Sao shook his head, “It's remarkable. Nothing stops you from coming into work.”

“You mean Marina's knife? That was nothing. Though I don’t like that I’m three for three when it comes to getting into fights with our missing persons.”

“Then let’s hope there isn’t another.”

They sat in considerable silence as a police siren flared off in the distance, echoing down miles of chilly grey to where they sat, behind the safe iron-barred windows. There would always be others, the reports were always streaming in, but the least they could do was stop up one of the gaps. But it was a hell of gap.

“And the way these so-called victims want to end this,” Rai grumbled. “What a joke.”

“Sorry?”

“‘Start a new life’. That should have set the alarms off from the start.” Rai fidgeted at the cuff of his glove. “That’s never been a good sign.”

“People have done this before?”

“You want fucked-up stories, do you know how many people end up offing their friends and relatives because they want a new start, want to run off with a pretty new boy or girl? Running away never really serves others, it’s always to save your own skin. There was this one case, on the South coast, a guy cut his own kids into pieces, shoved the pieces into suitcases and threw them out to sea. Thought they cost too much, wife wasn’t making him happy, something like that - pointless, especially when you considered his reasons were all ‘me, me, me’. Maybe he thought new batch of kids would be better. Or maybe it would just reset the countdown to until yet another reset is needed.”

Sao smiled blandly and thought about Rai’s delicate ‘bumped’ head.

“Out with the old, in with the new - it’s supposed to at least lift you up, even if you’re stomping on others to do so. But if the trio’s story means anything, and they weren’t strangers, then it’s really the 'old' , the past, that has dragged them down.” Rai smacked out another sentence on the keyboard. “Do you think it’s strange? That we’ve heard these three keep saying they’ve met, but we have yet to catch more than one in one place.”

“Other than on camera,” Sao said.

“Those were the turning points. Marina disappears with Locke. Locke goes with Oliver. Hopefully that’s the whole chain but the point is, the Marina, Locke and Oliver who came back after those incidents, they’re like new people, beings who just look the same. They’re not shrewd businessmen or witty engineers anymore. You said it yourself - it was like meeting someone different.”

“Yes but… what could cause that? What could change a person that much without affecting their appearance? An alien abduction?”

“A death cult.”

“Do you still think it’s a cult?”

“No. It would be fascinating-”

“What if it were literally someone else, in disguise. A... perfect disguise. Plastic surgery. No, that would need recovery time – in the shorter term, perhaps moulded rubber masks...”

Rai’s brow creased. He seemed displeased by what he was seeing, on the computer, in the office, in his thoughts.

“You’re right,” Sao said. “This isn’t helping.”

“Guess not.”

“Even if the solution is some unknown phenomenon, or a savant or magic trick, just listing it out won’t do anything, will it?”

Rai remained blearily focused on something. Not his work, not even the case. It occurred to Sao that Rai was eyeing him.

“Is there something on my face again? Ah - I didn’t check after Locke took a swipe at me. Is it bad?”

“No. Stop rubbing it, you’ll make it worse.”

“... is there something wrong or not?”

“I wasn’t - well there is now that you’ve smeared up your face. Will you go to the bathroom and do that in the mirror?” Rai stood. “After that, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Rai, eager for food? It was unusual notes all around the office that day.

---

Sao tended to fit in. He was good at finding a place. But he’d had dreams, on more than one occasion, of being out of place. Maybe he walked in where was was not wanted, or could not get out of a situation where he did not want to be. The midst of a crowd under a low hanging roof going one way while he needed to go another, closed quarters on a dark train, late to somewhere he could not find, standing against a wall of supposed friends who were all waiting for him to pick up the latest chain of a conversation he knew nothing about. An answer he couldn’t give, or knew would not bring any pleasure. And to make matters worse, he’d be dressed like a fool.

These were not quite nightmares, nothing so freakish that waking would be able to bring relief. Instead, they lingered. They were too plausible, unlike a true dream, reminders were everywhere from the moment he woke. They became conscious fears and cautions.

There were upsides, he would say. A real, remembered caution could be used. Sao had never been particularly strong, and hardly win a brawl with even a grade schooler, but he believed he was careful, at least around people. Those were the important times for him - his mask was made for human interaction. He had a combination of defenses to keep himself safe, and others happy.

But Rai did not sleep. Was it possible for him to dream? Did he have nightmares or night-time precautions from his subconscious? Surely he cared a bit about upsetting others.

Perhaps that wasn’t the case. Perhaps he just didn’t see anything worth masking.

“If you want a salad, I think the salads at the market station mall are actually better,” Sao said.

“I might get something different today.”

Cars honked in the distance, out of sight. Wind whistled. The mocha-colored bar front with its green canopy looked incredibly warm and inviting despite the seasonal addition of snowflake decals. From the window Sao could already make out the rack of wine glasses, and movement behind the counter.

“You want to go somewhere else, go ahead,” Rai commented. “But it’s been so long, Zen is going to think you’re avoiding her.”

“I am. I don’t know what to tell her if she asks about Marina… I’d prefer to meet her when I have good news.”

“That could take years. Or it may not happen.”

Sao ran a hand over his hair. “Bad news, any news. All we have are some ugly suspicions - Marina might be dead, but who really knows, other than another missing man who might be the killer? My greatest fear is an awkward silence, I’ll end up saying something insensitive. There won’t be grief or relief. Just worrying.”

“It’s still worrying if you mysteriously stop turning up altogether.”

“Didn’t you do that for a few months? After the office renovations, something like that.”

“Yeah,” Rai said. “The renovations, and there was also an argument over the price of coffee. But my meal schedule was all scrambled up when I didn’t have to hang out at bars to get work done. Half of the times that I wanted to come by, it was way past closing hours.”

“So you’re a fan after all.”

“And I would never have been involved with any of her friends, so I wouldn’t be expected to give updates.”

“Of course.”

“- though there have been uncomfortable times with the other staff members.” Rai lingered on the doormat, also changed in for the holidays. A smiling polar bear. Rai was locked in a staring match with it. “Doesn’t matter. I could still do without the prices, so if you and your discount are headed elsewhere...”

Sao threw his hands up and Rai smirked. They entered the restaurant.

“Hey, it’s good to see you again,” Zen piped brightly, sending them to one of the usual windowside tables. She appeared much like she had when Sao met her: a bit drowsy but hard at work, with her hair down - ever the more fiery after stepping in from the winter winds.

“It’s been too long,” he said.

Zen set them up with her customary cheer, and Sao felt his blood warming back up faster than usual. Soon enough Rai was also content, chewing ice from his coffee cup (which had already been drained before the food arrived). The early lunch crowd arrived, clamoring through the door in a large bundle of coats and boots, and Zen was off, smiles at the ready. Sao sliced his sandwich neatly and savored the noise of their fellow patrons. It seemed like all their nerves would come out unscathed.

He thanked Zen lavishly for the rather sizeable pork chop set before him. Rai was having cream of chicken soup, another split from his comfort zone, which meant he was using a spoon - also outside of the usual.

His gloves were making balance difficult. Sao tried to act natural.

Rai slipped and dropped the spoon after fifteen minutes of effort.

The spoon clattered to the floor, ringing slightly over the cheerful din. From her post at the bar, Zen peered over and held up a hand. No problem. Let me grab you a new one.

A well groomed man, no doubt a member of the art crowd judging from his striped sweater, moved to pick up the spoon and set it on their table. Sao thanked him, and he also held up a hand in silent attendance. On the man's arm was a tattoo of a red rose intersecting a glass prism.

Rai just nodded somewhat gravely and adjusted his glove.

Sao returned to acting natural.

“You’re going to ask, aren’t you,” Rai said.

“Not at all. I know the drill. The gloves aren’t my business.”

Rai started on the soup again. His slurping was unexpectedly soft. Well, it never been the eating or drinking that was loud, the noise always came when he slammed down the unwanted remains. Hopefully the ceramic soup bowl was out of that category.

Why such a heavy handed approach? He was even wearing gloves - thick ones, too. Maybe his ability to detect pressure was dulled. And he’d definitely taken a knife to the hand as well. His hands could be full of scars. Perhaps the gloves were full of medicine, sealed in for moisture. Sao had read about such things in the incident reports, treatment for burn victims, skin conditions and other sores.

But some unkind corner of his brain also reminded him of the time a main office friend of his, who had worked two desks down, braved full winter gear for several weeks of horrendous summer. The air conditioning broke, and there he was in a turtleneck and gloves. When the gloves came off, so to speak, it was quickly revealed that he had been trying to cover a body-spanning tattoo. Attained in a drunken stupor, and funnily enough dedicated to his dog who had passed away in the past month, so the chief let it slide.

“Feel free to ask anything else you’ve got on your mind,” Rai said, “Just quit staring. It’s really bugging me.”

Sao looked from Rai to his soup, then out to the crowd. The rose and the prism caught him again. But it wasn’t the design - it was the location.

“What were you doing just before Locke made his escape?”

“Well. I didn’t suffer any brain injuries but I still hit my head pretty hard on that goddamn three hundred pound chair of his, so it took a while to get up.”

“Excuse me, I meant, what was the purpose of your final question? When you asked to see his arms.”

“Oh, that. I was looking for markings. On his...” Rai inspected his own hands as though they’d remind him. “On his left wrist specifically, hoping maybe for a handprint.”

“Handprint - a tattoo? Some sort of gang symbol?”

Rai glanced at their tattooed neighbor as well, but shook his head. “No. Actually, now that I think about it, it would look more like a scar.”

“...wrist scars? Now that’s unexpected. Is there something you aren’t telling me about him?”

“Urg. Nothing like that. Okay, one more try.” Rai tapped the spoon against the edge of the dish. “Technically... it would be a burn.”

“A handprint-shaped burn.”

“Maybe not a handprint, just a scar.”

“So it could be any shape.”

“Guess so. The point is, it would be on arm. If it were there at all.”

“Burn, scar, handprint - any of the above would be pretty unusual so close to the hands. Was that in the missing persons report?”

“We couldn’t confirm it, so no, I didn’t add that. He was wearing that huge pimp robe with long sleeves underneath, remember? And a skirt or something.”

“It looked like shorts.”

“Either way, not your traditional pajamas. I just told the detective that it was something a little above knee-length. Though he probably changed as soon as possible. Clothing descriptions tend to be pretty pointless if the person is trying not to be found.”

As if this finally compelled her, Zen slid up at their table. “So, how’s the food?”

“Everything’s perfect, thank you,” Sao said.

“It’s good,” Rai said.

She laughed at their responses, a hearty laugh, and Sao was relieved to hear it. But then came the silence. Nobody wanted to ask the real question at hand, the reason she really had for approaching them. The news, or conspicuous lack of it, hung over them like smoke. The silence was so thick Rai’s slurping was the loudest part of it, until he stopped.

“Hey Zen, we were just talking about this,” Rai said. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“Me in particular, was what you were talking about?”

“We were talking in general, but since he was so interested…”

“I was asking about somebody else,” Sao cut in quickly. But there was no need to bring Locke up now. He turned a smile to Zen. “Though if you’ve got any artwork to share, by all means.”

“You know, a while ago I thought about getting one - just a small one, like behind the ear - back when I lived with my parents. They would have flipped, I guess that was the appeal. But since I got up and out of there, it hasn’t been on my mind.” She tapped her chin. “Icey has a few, but she’s had to cover them up since workplace no likey. She actually got another one recently - okay, maybe a year ago - a pig or dog on her lower arm, no less, I even warned her! But she was wasted at the time, and I could never talk her out of things even before drinks. So it’s sleeves and massive watches all the time now.”

Sao’s smile rose. “A guy at my office had the same situation. Strangely enough, his was also dog-themed - but covered a little more than his hand. I’ve yet to see another man sporting full arctic ensemble in the summertime.”

“Oh, god.” Her wide eyes strayed to Rai.

“He wasn’t talking about me,” Rai said.

“I should have guessed that, you don’t look like a tattoo guy, thought the gloves did make me wonder, one night. Can you even put a tattoo on those things? Sorry! Sorry, was that offensive? I’m just curious.”

“Those ‘things’?” Sao asked.

“His hands. I’d imagine it would be like trying to tattoo a glowstick. They’re - I don’t know, it’s not magic, right?”

“Not officially.”

“Right, it’s something else. It...”

Rai did something Sao had never seen him do before, put a finger up to his lip. The sign of a secret. Zen giggled nervously, and Sao’s smile began to level out. Despite the childish gesture Rai’s face was still severe as chiseled stone.

“It’s alright,” Sao sighed, “Classified info? I’m not allowed to ask about it.”

“Right. Anyway, I don’t have any tattoos, so you don’t have to go looking for them.”

Watching Rai’s face for a few seconds, Zen suddenly snapped her fingers. “Wait, I may have lied. I’ve tried! I had my eyebrows tattooed once.”

Rai coughed. “You can do that?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“So, uh, what we’re seeing now...”

“Oh, no, no, that was ages ago, so what you see now is natural. Nobody would pay for these. The tattooing's temporary, but it almost works the same way as a regular tat otherwise. Hurts like hell for the first few days, and you get swelling under the hairs, it’s....” She shuddered.

“Do you think the brows are worth it?” Sao asked.

“It’s been such a long time, but I do know it saved me time in the morning. You can get eyeliner needled in too, but they have to get so close to your eyeballs, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Rai emitted wordless groan as if needles were moving in on his own dark-ringed eyes. He started scraping at the last few drops of soup.

Sao smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid I’m a little too squeamish for even the milder procedure.”

“You? You don’t need them.” Zen scoffed. “You always look flawlessly done.”

“Done?”

At Rai’s snort, Sao looked from one side of the table to the other, then dropped into a mock faint. “Is it that obvious?”

“What would I know? I notice only because I see you up close, all the time, sitting still. And compared to other clerks - it’s clear as day to me.” Rai finally scraped the last drops off his bowl and set down the spoon with a ceramic clang. “The paint and powder or whatever it is, makes your face, I don’t know what you’d call it. Too shiny.”

“I’d say your foundation’s actually a little too perfect,” Zen insisted. “It’s super smooth, even the color. From far away, people think they’re seeing a model or something. And around here, that’s weird.”

“Interesting.”

“Like a sheet of latex,” Rai added.

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

Rai shrugged. “Whatever. You know more than me about this stuff. Just don’t wipe your face off so much that we won’t recognize you.”

“It’s not like he’s made up for the opera, he’s doing natural makeup,” Zen sputtered. “It enhances the natural - he won’t look like a whole different person without it.”

“It’s covering more than you think,” Sao said.

“See? That’s how it always works.” Rai said, pointlessly triumphant. It took a few seconds for the meaning to sink it, he lowered his hands against each other and frowned. Zen, too started scrutinizing Sao for hidden specks and secrets. But his point stood - they were hidden.

“The real thing is classified info,” Sao told them.

“If you say so.” Rai’s face was a poor match for his blithe words.

“I do. But I’ve probably gone too hard on the covering aspect this week, since we’ve been running around the city I was worried it would all come off,” Sao offered. “The stuff’s pretty dense. You could even cover up tattoos.”

“That’s right!” Zen smiled. “The expensive concealers are insane. When Icey was freaking after waking up with that new tattoo of hers, Marina pulled out a jar of who-knows-what and made it disappear. You couldn’t even see the edges of the coverup, it just looked like skin. She was that good.”

Sao’s attention was swiftly turned to his reflection in his spoon.

“Icey never managed to do it again, she didn’t have the right stuff. Last time she tried, it looked like she had this big gross band-aid about to fall off. I’m not so good myself. But I gotta wonder where Marina learned, because she didn’t seem like a fan of makeup, or maybe she was just so good at the natural look we never noticed.”

“Huh. I wouldn't know,” Rai said, which did nothing to soothe the situation, which was bristling almost audibly, like hard winds hitting a once calm plain. Zen was trying to hold off the question, the unpleasantness, but she too was being helplessly carried in that particular direction.

“So, the case... Marina’s…”

Sao bit his lip and Zen stopped, as if the name had already declared the whole thing a foul. But there was no going back.

“Have you found anything yet? Her or any of the others? If they’re even related. I don’t know.”

“She….” Sao began.

“The details are classified for now,” Rai said. “Real classified info. But, of course, if she gets in touch with you...”

Zen was disappointed, he could see immediately. Sao’s stomach felt like it was trying to sink to his feet. There wasn’t much he could say to help, and he couldn’t very well reach out a hand to comfort her, least of all with Rai there. Without talk or touch he was useless - one of his pseudo-nightmares creeping to life.

“She was spotted recently, around the banks,” Sao put in quickly. “Trustworthy source, I think.”

“Really?” A faint spark set off in the gloom. “They’re sure it was her?”

“I think so. But I can’t say much more for now.”

“Sao here confirmed someone who looked a lot like her, at least,” Rai said. “But yeah, can’t say anything for sure. There’s still a lot that isn’t clear about her situation.”

“But she’s still kicking, right? Like, not… not dead. If she was walking around that must mean - I - sorry, I know you can’t say more, I just wish...”

And then the smouldering silence. Like dense fog had set down between the three of them, they stared ahead but saw no further path. There was no more talk to be had, it was time to back out and save their hopes for later.

“We’ve kept you here too long. I'll take the check now,” Rai said.

---

“I owe you an apology, Rai.”

“For what?”

“I must have said too much. She looked so broken up, I knew I would say something stupid.”

“You’re a born talker, alright.”

Sao sighed deeply and slumped against his desk. Rai pushed his own chair out to get a better look at his sluggish employee.

“You can’t let people manipulate you,” Rai said.

“I don’t think that’s what she was trying to do.”

“It doesn’t matter if she was trying. It’s what you ended up doing.” Rai set his forearm on the desk with a thud. “Well, at least it didn’t really matter what you told her in this case. We don’t know anything really sensitive or even truthful about Marina’s case, especially if there really are no murderous debt collectors who might be searching for her. The immediate concern is if she’s alive, and that was a concern from the start anyway.”

“I couldn’t tell Zen that.”

“Yeah, but only because of your own hang-ups. I don’t care if you do. And unless the chief puts out a for-real gag order, we aren’t banned from telling people that their friends are dead - so you aren’t going to lose your job or anything.” Point made, Rai pulled his chair back under his desk. “And she’s not even dead. So don’t sweat that part.”

“Thanks. I suppose.”

“Great. Now back to work.” Rai grimaced at his desk. “Where the hell was I… I’ve been trying to ignore this crap all week.”

He settled into his latest mountain of case annotations.

For a bit, Sao remained where he was, hands hanging at the sides of the chair. Undignified, but what had he done to dignify himself that day, anyhow? Zen had hardly been smiling as they left. And though Rai had tried to comfort him in his brutish, diplomatic fashion, Sao felt a twinge of guilt towards him as well. The contents of Rai’s desk usually swapped out on a day-to-day basis - because he finished them off so quickly - but this particular stack had been building up because of the missing persons case. The one that had been dragging them out of the office, and around town for little benefit. The case Sao pulled him into.

Sao stretched his arms and laid them over the keyboard.

The document titled PHOTOGRAPH OF CORPSE #1 hung expectantly before him. Time for a little retribution.

---

Head against the window, vibrations rattling down his spine and maybe he was groaning without realizing it - the day was over at last.

In the final hours, the walls of the office had been crawling with welts and bruises, mounds and holes filled with maggots, the ticking sound emitted from the heating pipes may as well have been a bomb, and it would be all the better if it was, everything in sight and mind needed a good fiery cleanse.

No, that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t Rai’s fault, the building was not truly infested. It was Sao. It was simply his jittering nerves, drawing up awful scenes, punishing him for his normal daytime listlessness.

Looking at the photographs had been a mistake.

Half of them had been more of a mistake than the other, if bullet wounds were considered more of a pleasure than long-rotted flesh. But the numbers were trivial now. If one bad apple could already spoil a bunch, opening a crate to find half of them festering was enough to make you forget what a good apple even looked like. Sao opened his eyes and locked gaze with his reflection in the glass.

What ever happened to not overthinking?

The fluorescent lights of the bus made the blood behind his eyes throb.

Covering up your ears and eyes was never going to hold off anything.

Yes, it was better to be prepared.

Prepared. How things had changed, Rai had been right about that, things in the city were constantly changing, from the upper echelons to the mid-level movements to the sights and sounds of each individual. Here was a typical, compliant, safe, even excessively avoidant desk clerk trying to steel himself for the sight of corpses. Maybe this time it would work.

It was already crushing to think he had been in a car and hall where a corpse had been through or would later be taken. Moreso to think he’d been face to face, stupidly laughing along with someone who may have been the killer. He’d also shared drinks with those who had become victims. The bars, the greasy diner, the banks, the office - they would all change if come morning Marina was found in a bad way...

What would it be like, to see a familiar face on a steel tray? Was that how it worked? Perhaps he would even not be allowed in. Rai was loose on the regulations, but surely the morgue didn’t open its doors to everyone.

The thought wasn’t really comforting.

It was officers on the case tended to go in and see the relevant bodies. Did he count as an officer? What would be his purpose? Documentation? It would be best to let an impartial clerk attend to that, if clerks were even permitted. There was also identification. They could call in family for that - or Zen or Icey, if time was tight. Or Sao himself, saving them the trouble…

Sao stepped off the bus wondering if anyone had ever died on it. The driver had the bent spine and clouded eyes of one who had seen too much. Sao gave him a few words of encouragement and got no response. Then there was the trek to his apartment. His thoughts were straying far and wide, trying to get away from the singular thought. Marina on the slab. What a terrible phrase to have strung together. Slab - a crude, unshining euphemism. Top it off with a name that could be anyone’s. You could just as easily get Oliver on the slab. Hell, Locke too. The three of them, laid flat like pieces of meat.

The estate smelled fertile and sweet. Clusters of white jasmine had been planted along the luminous walkway, contrary to the season.

Seeing the guards in their booths were a small comfort, he was happy to note there were two on duty. Good, neither would be alone. He waved. The flicker of his own shadow on the entranceway nearly made him jump back.

“You alright, sir?” asked one guard.

“Yes. Yes, of course. And yourself?”

“Can’t complain, the weather’s been decent. It finally cooled down.”

“Yes, it has.”

“It was a little too chilly yesterday, though.”

“I thought so, too.”

The weather was a good topic. Better than Marina on the slab - but as soon as he made the comparison, the image was back. Pale and boneless. Cold, in pieces-

“Sao! I thought I’d missed you.”

He turned, nearly leaped a foot back again.

Marina was standing against a pillar, a few feet from the scanner-locked glass doors. She was in another navy two-piece, and though she had the addition of dark tights so the temperature must have been getting to her. Her upturned lips were a pale blue.

She, and thoughts of the slab faded like shadows. “You’re looking good,” she told him, ever more spirited.

“Marina. Why are you here?”

“Sorry if I spooked you. I remember you lived here and...”

“I couldn’t reach you today.”

“I’m sorry, I came to apologize about that and I… I think I need your advice.”

“Right. Yes, sure. First and foremost I’m glad to see you’re alright.” He held a hand out toward the doorway. “Why don’t we talk inside? You must be freezing.”

“I don’t know if I should. I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you think I’m getting too pushy...”

He smiled. “I’m sure we'll both find the lobby more comfortable.”

With the flash of a plastic card (Chimera were fond of those, weren’t they?) the doors slid open to reveal a circular room of glowing white tile. There were benches beside the entrance for anyone who may be waiting, and Sao knew from experience they were far more comfortable than they looked. Silk in a modern slope of slightly flexing steel - even in his dreams he would not have conjured such a device. Nestled amongst the downy cushions, Marina breathed, and appeared at ease. Now, to try not to spoil that...

“So did you go to the police today to get your file cleared?” Sao asked.

“I… no, I didn’t make it. I didn’t try. I’m sorry. Maybe I went about this wrong, but you see...” She picked at the perfectly trimmed edge of the cushion. “Locke called me, in a huge panic before I was supposed to head out.”

“When was this?”

“Early in the morning. I don’t have the car, so I was going to get an early bus. But when he called, I was home, just up after a really late night… yes, I should have told you, I actually talked to him last night. Just to calm him down, and I thought it worked. He was okay when I left! Then he called and it sounded like he was driving somewhere, and he wasn’t clear if it was the debt collectors or police or whatever, but he was going crazy, totally different person from the night before. Said he had to go out of town and couldn’t come back, and I couldn’t tell anyone or he would...” She pushed her hair back. “Or I would regret it.”

“Well, I don’t know what he had planned, but I’m glad you did decide to tell someone after all.”

“I’m telling you.” She sighed. “Thanks, I hoped I made the right choice. You seemed like the only person I could talk to. When Locke called I got so nervous, I didn’t leave the house all day. I thought every phone call would be him or the cops or the lenders - I don’t know. But it got so bad I had to come out, and I thought of you. Locke kept the car - I let him drive it home last night and he took off with it - so I had to take the bus. I was checking behind me all the way. Took way longer than I wanted.” She laughed weakly. “It was so cold today too.”

“You’re alright now. I’ll do what I can to help…”

Her eyes were wide.

Sao gazed at the silver piping that ran along the ceiling. “But you need to go to the police.”

“I thought you’d say that. I think so too. I really need to… I still want to be taken off the missing persons list. When I’m there, everyone’s looking for me. They have all my information, and anyone can see it. If Locke tries...”

“Don’t worry about him for now. I’ll take you to the station in the morning.”

“Just you?”

“Yes?” He paused and broke into a smile. “Of course, we don’t need my colleague dragging everything down. After our talk, thinking of getting away from the city – I’ve actually been considering quitting.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“It’s for my own reasons, this colleague being one of them. But never fear, I won’t be gone before I get you cleared of his bizarre case.”

“Alright, but… thank you. Thanks for all you’ve done.”

“The least I could do. I have no clue what Locke might be up to, but again, I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you safe.”

“I’m sorry I worried you.”

“It’s fine. Well, that’s what I say, but I had a bit of a fright today that made things worse. It wasn’t even related to you, I’m just-” he shrugged and fell back on one of the shimmering cushions. “I don’t have much in the way of fighting spirit.”

“A case?”

Sao raised a brow.

“You’re a cop, I thought. So you...”

“Yes. You’ve got me. But it's an old case, I've been given some old reading for the courts. There were lot of bodies. Seventy-odd of them.”

“Oh, no…” The look on her face was more than polite shock. Even if she were a different person, the sound of that old Great Success case would hit just as bad. The hook took hold. He watched her carefully.

“To be honest, I was worried I’d have to see you one of those dead files, one day. So the seventy were preparing me, in a way.”

Her mouth froze a moment then formed a shaky smile. “Did it work?”

“I don’t think it would have. Luckily you’re up on your feet.”

“You’d say I’m worth more than 70 others?”

“Who could say? I can’t try to quantify a friend.”

She stared at him. What is this maniac saying? He’d seen the older, meaner cousin of that expression on Rai’s face, but Marina appeared almost impressed. Like he was a wondrous animal rather than an insect.

Eventually she shook her head and laughed. “Okay, okay. That was lame of me. So, uh, do you have a car?”

“Not at the moment.”

“I - I need to get home, but I’m somewhat afraid of the bus. I’m sorry. I’m intruding again. It’ll be fine, I think.”

“Yes. I wouldn’t worry.”

And there she would go. Into the night. She might disappear, be captured by Locke or the invisible collectors, or some other cause entirely. People were always going missing, and who was to say a UFO couldn’t abduct someone who’d also been kidnapped, and who’d also run away from home? Causes upon causes - and he hadn’t even cleared this one, tiny chain yet.

Sao followed the lines on the ceiling to the edge, down the wall, to the ground. Trying to align himself. Then he stood.

“You know what would be even safer? Why don’t you stay at my apartment for tonight?”

She also took to her feet. “I can’t. Are you allowed?”

“It’s my living space, I'd like to believe I have some authority there.”

“Only if you’re really sure.”

He wasn’t sure about a damn thing.

But he gathered what scraps of conviction there was and spread his arm towards the bank of shining elevators. A big smile now, but a soft one - and yes, her face had eased. Whatever had happened, and whoever she was, she was surely exhausted as well.

---

Wonderful, Sao thought as he lingered in the bathroom, why not cap off the day with another terrible decision?

“Are you alright in there?” That was Marina’s voice, beyond the locked door.

“Yes. There’s a lot to clean up.” He shuffled the bottles and tubes beside the sink in an effort to sound busy.

“It looked fine when I was in there.”

“I have a nighttime ritual, don’t worry about it. You must be tired, go lie down. Take the bed.”

“I said I couldn’t… it does look comfortable, though.”

“I insist.”

Things could be worse. He leaned very close to his reflection in the expansive mirror and thought, at least you're safe in here. And at least you didn’t sleep with his surprise visitor. The headstrong, independent detectives of old would not have been so callous. They might get valuable information as payoff for their suave daring, or they might get stabbed in the back for their frivolous weakness. Well, facts were facts and he couldn't afford to go down that path either way. Even if it were asked of him.

The reason for that was a whole other problem.

Shaking hands was one thing, having his an open-palm flying at his face was another, but having all parts of him put at risk - it wasn’t going to happen.

“You have so many pillows,” she said.

“Move as many as you like if they’re in the way. You can just put them on the couch.”

Sao bit his lip and ran a finger down his face, tilted his head towards the light and then out of it. The area behind his right cheek looked unnaturally hollow. Had it been colored too dark?

“Ah. It’s like lying on a cloud! This is heaven. Are you sure I can sleep here? I couldn’t change my clothes, so I might not smell so-”

“Take it, please. I don’t get guests often,” Sao said absently.

“Oh… I can’t see why anyone wouldn’t want to be invited here. This is the most amazing place I’ve seen.”

It wasn’t his property, but there were other reasons not to have guests over. For one, he didn’t care much for keeping his face powdered up all night.

It would be the first time, actually. He inspected himself in the mirror.

His handiwork was now acceptable to his tired eyes, though no doubt an extra slathering of concealer was making him look more clownish than usual. The skin under his eyes almost felt plastic to the touch, and creased like latex when he frowned (Rai’s incourteous description was echoing around him) but it would have to do - besides, the lights would be out soon. Hopefully the whole rubbery mask would hold for the night, until Marina woke up, and she wouldn't have to see any of his natural face.

That required he wake up earlier than her. The thought of ‘waking up early’ was another grim prospect.

Sao exited the bathroom at last and quietly closed the door. Luckily, everything in the house was so well oiled, smooth cut, and silent. Marina was in the bed, back turned, encased in the thick, feather comforter. Locks of dark hair poked over the blanket's rim, short and curving slightly, like grass clippings. It reminded him of an old friend.

What a dangerous thought. He sank into the sponge-soft crescent of his couch and turned on the overhanging light.

Get your thoughts in order. She’s involved in a case, and there’s no denying she has some connection with a man who ran from the police, with blood dripping from his car. If someone came to collect her, what could you do? You have to put yourself first.

Sao tipped his head back and searched for the three points of assurance set around him. The third bulb of the overhanging lamp. In the racks of a simple, mounted bookcase. Behind the smoke detector.

Another reason to be generous with the bedroom. His landlord had been kind enough to leave the bedroom free from ‘observation’. But the living room, well, the man wanted to ensure the safety of his bookcase and plasma screen.

Hro, if anything happens, I hope you’re watching.

He pulled the laptop onto his knees and considered it without opening. He had he closed his files before putting the thing to sleep, or was his old friend, PHOTOGRAPH OF CORPSE 1/78, still waiting for him on the screen?

He tried to remember what CORPSE #1 looked like.

“You said you were lonely sometimes.”

“I’m sorry?”

The fulsome shifting of the comforter. “You said you get lonely sometimes, being new the to city.”

“Oh. Yes, but it’s… it’s not too bad.”

“And you have the touch phobia as well.”

“I guess that’s why being alone isn’t so bad,” he laughed.

“You shouldn’t have to be alone, though.” Marina paused. In the quite, enclosed air, he could hear her breathe from the next room. “I know what it’s like. I had trouble too, when I first took the train in. Of course, I didn’t get such a nice apartment so quickly… when I got one, it wasn’t like this...”

Sao thought of the vast carpark, Marina’s shabby motel-styled block. “This is a generous rental. I could get booted out at any time. Sometimes I wish I made an investment for my own place, even if the place I buy isn’t so plush.”

“Why wouldn’t you rent again?”

“I like the idea of having something that’s mine. I’ve hung onto others most of my life, I’d like to be able to have the freedom to, I don’t know, choose my own flooring. Drill holes in my own walls.”

“You can’t do that here? Even a small one?”

“You haven’t met my landlord.”

He heard a laugh, with unexpected weight. Marina’s voice steadied, and said, “What I was trying to say, was that… someone like you, you think you have nothing, but everyone can see you have something bigger than a house or money. People will come to you eventually. You won’t have to be alone, I bet you’ll start meeting all kinds of people really soon. And they’ll like you. Don’t worry.”

“Hm.”

“It can take a while, but… soon. Even if you need to change jobs because it makes you unhappy, or start over in smaller ways. Your home, the way you look and talk and carry yourself… people will flock in to see you.”

“Like a clown.”

“Like a prince.”

“Please.”

“... you’re right. Princes aren’t really... approachable. Too haughty, too much money to hope they’ll lower themselves to touch. And they own their own castles.” A lull. “How about a knight? That’s a bit like a policeman.”

She must have pulled the covers over her head because the words came out muffled. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He let their comparisons fade, and for a long time, Marina remained silent. He opened his laptop.

The clock read a little past eleven, and there were no autopsy files waiting for him on the screen. A small pinch of luck in the final hour of the day.

Sao decided to do a quick read of one of his assignments before bed. The type-up wasn’t due until a month later, but it seemed like a long document, and he had barely looked at the original scanned pages.

At the top of his inbox was a form for him to fill in concerning his external office placement. Evaluations and reflections, codewords asking whether their new boss deserved their new peon. Okay, with Rai he was more of a bumbling sidekick. He really could have done with more peon-like work.

He set the blank form aside and opened his assignment.

Sometime around midnight, he decided to watch some home improvement videos instead. He was not sure how he’d arrived at that, but the construction of a balcony out of an abandoned dumpster and some plywood was certainly interesting.

Another hour ticked by. He was up later than usual. He was inexplicably proud.

When he was finally ready to curl up under a blanket and close his eyes, no more than a minute after he had set down the laptop screen, his phone blinked to life.

Chin already down on the cushion, he lay like a fish, considering options. It all depended on who was calling. Well, there weren’t many options at this time of day - he flipped through to the message. And then he was back on his feet, so fast his head spun. He pulled on the shirt and pants he’d worn earlier in the day and tugged his old jacket off the hanger in the bathroom. He didn’t think to act quietly until he had already thrown open the front door.

“You’re going out?”

She sounded far too clear for someone who had been asleep.

“It’s a work emergency.”

“Oh…”

He really wished the heater made some noise. Anything to ease the air.

“When will you be back?”

“Soon. Don’t worry. I have to take you do the police tomorrow, right?”

“Right...”

“Please, please, get some rest. We can’t both walk into the station feeling groggy.” His old friend, the one who resembled Marina, had always hated being lectured like a child. She had been his only friend, he should have learned how to properly act around her, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. “Good night.”