I told it I was expected, and it confirmed my appointment.I told it I was expected, and it confirmed my appointment. I stepped onto it... ...And appeared in virgin forest in high summer. I turned a full 180 degrees before sighting my final destination, the black-walled cylinder of power that compromises the Hall, over two hundred kilometers away. I began walking in the direction, fully expecting to meet my charge, whoever he was. The smell of pine was invigorating, as was the slight ozone of pre-dawn rain. Squirrels looked at me from every tree, and overhead a large bird of prey hung silently in the air. That's when I heard cursing, in very clear and distinctive American. A woman's voice, with an accent that told me she had once tried very hard to get rid of any trace of Californian in her, and had almost succeeded. I walked over in that direction and came to a large rock that jutted out of a slight decline. I stepped onto the rock and peered down. The rock jutted out only two meters from the tree-shaded hillside, and immediately below it was a young woman of I'd estimate twenty-six, taking her shoes off and cursing. Apparently she'd been walking for at least three hours. "Having trouble?" I asked. "What?" she shouted, looking around before looking up. "Who are you?" "More to the point, who are you?" I asked. "You're the Hallwalker, not me." "Greta," she said. "My name's Greta Rumbel." I assessed Greta to be somewhat attractive, but not incredibly so. She was short, and a little overweight, with a good skin color. Most strikingly, however, she was bald. "Ken Shardik." I both love and detest watching Terran's eyes light up when they hear my name. But in her eyes, the look came and went so fast that if I'd blinked, I'd've missed it. "According to the person I talked to at D'Arc, you can't help me any more than anyone else," she said, dejectedly. |