Back at K. Robeson Enterprises.
    The watchers meandered back and forth, traded shifts, making sure they would not be seen, entirely certain that their quarry was still in view. An elderly gentleman walked down the street toward the building, a certain jauntiness in his stride, like someone who has only recently rediscovered the joy of movement. It was Don Vincent.
    He rang the doorbell. The watchers scratched their ears and seemed to mumble to themselves.
    "Hello, welcome to K. Robeson Enterprises, please come in," Stephanie chirped.
    "Is Miss McKay here?"
    "Who?"
    "She also goes by the name Lucky. So tall, dresses in black?"
    "Oh, no, she left. Can I help you with anything?"
    Newton arched his back and hissed, staring at the figure in the doorway.
    "Could you take a message, please? Let her know that her dear friend Vincent is back in town and would like to speak with her at her earliest convenience."
    "Oh, of course, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with? Would you like to come in and have some coffee?"
    "I don't think coffee will be required. Have a nice day." He tipped hat and left.
    "Well, he wasn't human, was he," Sphinx commented without ever turning around, calming Newton with an absent hand.
    "No, he moved entirely wrong to be human," Muse agreed thoughtfully, watching through the window as the old man walked away.
    "What do you mean? He was a nice old man!" Stephanie protested.
    "He was a nice old artificial life form, miss," Muse corrected. "You get used to these things."
    As Vincent walked away, the two watchers closed in. One put a hand on the old man's shoulder as if to stop him. A moment later he crumpled beneath the force of a blow he never saw coming. Vincent casually pushed the other up against the building's wall. "Excuse me," he said politely. A dozen ribs shattered, one at a time. He continued on his way, leaving them motionless on the ground behind him.

    Lucky's phone rang.
    "Lucky."
    "Hello, this is Muse, how are you?"
    "Be-mused," she decided. "How are you?"
    "Oh, quite well. An old friend of yours, name of Vincent came by—"
    She dropped the phone.
    "Miss, when I'm giving a soliloquy, I like to be listened to," he reproved, and waited until she had picked up the phone again. "Glad to have you back. Remember those two individuals who were trying to blend into the scenery remarkably badly? They're doing a much better job of it now, because they don't move as much. The two by the back door seem to have just realized this and aren't looking very happy. Moving around to the front now... and scratching their necks, oh, that's subtle. I just wanted to let you know, it seems that he's unhappy and not living. Some sort of artificial life form."
    "What?"
    "According to Sphinx he smelled something like chrome and compressed air."
    Like Scott, in other words. "Oh shit. Oh, fuck. Thank you."
    "You're quite welcome."

| Top |