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forward, trying not to wince as pain shot through my left knee with every step I took. I couldn’t be seen limping if I was going to control the conversation.
    From the edge of the clearing, I spotted Lindsey Taylor leaning against the fir tree, calmly waiting for me. I looked around the clearing once, but couldn’t see anyone else. One more deep breath, and then I walked up to her.
    “Did you bring your originals?” I demanded harshly, but I could already see that she wasn’t carrying any bags or envelopes.
    Lindsey Taylor merely smiled. “Clearly, you can see that I haven’t.”
    “You’ll regret it for the rest of your short, painful life,” I said quietly.
    “You’re bluffing, Adrian,” she said, and I could tell by her eyes that she no longer feared me. I had been afraid of that.
    “So what now, Lindsey Taylor?”
    “Your photos are with a friend,” she informed me. “If I go missing, my friend will publish them, along with your name and this location. I believe the police are still looking for you.”
    I frowned. “If you dragged your friend into this, you are not being a very good friend.”
    “Nevertheless,” replied Lindsey, “you will give me my story. You will tell me about this place and the people who live here.”
    I remained silent.
    Lindsey Taylor chuckled. “What do you care, Adrian? According to you, no one would believe me anyway, right?”
    “Right...” I said slowly. “Alright, I guess you leave me no choice. You can have my story, but we’ll talk here and now. Did you at least bring a notebook?”
    “I’m a journalist, Adrian. I’d bring my notebook even if I forgot my pants.”
    As Lindsey Taylor reached into her pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pen, I slowly placed my right thumb on the black tracer band wrapped around my left wrist. The tracer band was a miniature transmitter that I was required to wear for my own security. There was a single button on the surface of what, at first glance, appeared to be a wristwatch, and keeping the button pressed for three seconds activated the locator. Guardian Knights would be here in moments to take Lindsey Taylor in for memory modification. I sighed. I had really hoped to resolve this without Guardian help.
    Lindsey had seen me activate the tracer. “What’s that, Adrian?” she asked.
    “My watch,” I lied.
    Lindsey grinned. “Your watch is on your right wrist, Mr. Howell.”
    Lindsey reached into her pocket again, and out came a tiny radio transceiver. Holding it to her mouth, she spoke in a businesslike tone, saying, “Spider to Lancer Control, I think we’re done here. In case you haven’t noticed, Hansel used his tracer. Please cancel the order. Over.”
    The transceiver crackled once, and a male voice answered, “Roger that, Spider. We’ve noticed and it’s done. Cookie would like to meet with Hansel at 4pm. Please have him come up to Cookie’s residence. Over.”
    “Roger, Lancer Control. Thank you for your time. Over and out.” Lindsey switched off the transceiver and smiled at me. “Did you hear that? Mr. Baker wants to see you in an hour.”
    Completely speechless from the moment Lindsey had pulled out her transceiver, I finally managed a weak, “What?”
    I heard someone clapping slowly and deliberately behind me, and I turned around to face...
    “Terry?!” I exclaimed.
    “Hey, Adrian,” said Terry, who had been clapping by smacking her right palm against her upper left arm so as not to damage her prosthetic attachment. “I can’t believe I got out of school early for this, but no doubt Mr. Baker is going to chew me up too for not teaching you to act properly when faced with security breaches.”
    Then Terry turned to Lindsey and said, “Still, it’s not a total loss, Mr. Williams. I told you he wouldn’t leave the job half-finished.”
    “Apparently so,” agreed Lindsey.
    “Terry?” I said again, blinking blankly at her.
    Terry smiled. “Calm down, Adrian. Take a deep breath, think,