Journal Entry 111 / 0674 "Good afternoon, Sir.Journal Entry 111 / 0674 "Good afternoon, Sir. May I sit here?" I asked, tray in hand. Borodir looked up at me, an expression that at first seemed amused and then slid towards confused. He recovered his usual demeanor, nodded, and said "By all means, Ken. Have a chair." I took a seat opposite him at the cafeteria table, surrounded by the hundreds of people who live and work at the Arc, the ground-based facility for our military and space forces. "Thank you." "Not at all. You seem unusually self-contained today, Ken. I take this is a social call?" "Sort of," I said, becoming hypnotized by his wonderfully deep and soulful voice. I shook my head. I was not here to play with him tonight. "Sort of," he repeated. "Yes. I want your help." "My help," he said. "And what do you need my help for?" "To use your own phrase, M'lord, we have a mutual... friend, and I would like your help in setting up a scene with him." Borodir looked even more confused now than he had when I'd first approached him. "You don't mean Aaden, I take it?" "No, Sir. I would rather we discussed our four-legged friend." "Ah," he said. "Ramsey." "Yes, Sir." "Tell me what you have planned." I sat down and laid it out on the table for him, and after a few minutes he nodded. There are times when I have trouble believing it's me talking about these most outrageous of things in a crowded, sunlit diner with nearly a thousand people around me. "You will not hurt him." That was an order. "I have no intention of hurting him. Think of it as an apology." Borodir laughed, a long and deep laugh. "That's an interesting way of looking at it," he admitted. "You have my help." "Thank you." "May I tell you something?" Before I could even consider replying, he continued. "The day Lynn came to me and said, 'We have a problem case for you,' I knew something was wrong. |