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forward, take charge and fire the team with enthusiasm. At the moment, B.C. was in charge. We aimed the Z into the fog and back for the motel. I was anxious to get on the phone to Lucy. |
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B.C. had already scribbled out a list of questions, most of them relating to what she informed me was a sixteenth century lesser deity called Sate. This time my mumbled instructions were even more vague than usual. I couldn't give Lucy much to go on from B.C.'s all too terse summary. I knew very little about Sate; in fact, I'd never heard of him. |
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Lucy must have picked up on my vibrations because she kept her small talk to a minimum. She hung up with a promise to get back to me as soon as she could come up with something. |
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While I was on the phone, Brenda practiced her pacing. She patrolled back and forth between the two rooms, from time to time pausing just long enough to assess the still dismal day droning on outside the shelter of our motel room. It was equally apparent that she had developed a taste for my Black and White; the Scotch supply was dwindling rapidly. Finally she slumped into the same chair that Kelto had occupied a few hours earlier, folded her hands under her chin and stared at me. |
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"Tell me what you know about this Sate stuff." |
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