The Lawyist Weighs In
S. adjusted his hair slightly, "I get lost in reflections," almost to himself, "I find myself losing hours staring at myself. Not because I think I'm beautiful or anything, don't get me wrong. I just... the contours and angles of my face are strange to the point of fascination. Most people don't notice because they don't spend enough time to really SEE it, but once they've spent an hour or two staring at me, they can't stop."
"I did ask you here for some law advice," Timothy was already regretting calling his lawyist, these consultations were never productive.
"Of course. You said that some person, perhaps a foreign operative, offered you... something?" S. moved his head but not his eyes from the mirror behind Timothy's desk.
"Sort of. I came in and saw that someone had intruded and absconded. I'm very particular about my files and there are very tender, secretive sorts of things in my business. Potential state secrets in particular if you believe in somnambulant projection. These are the things this, eh, gentleman was interested in. He approached me afterward on Main Street."
"And that is when he offered...? What exactly? Money? Votes?" S.'s gaze was veering toward the mirror again.
"Not exactly. He mentioned that I have access to things that could make life very interesting for him and me both. He... this is, like, covered by attourney/client stuff right? You can't tell anyone about this, right?"
"Mmhmm." S. adjusted his hair again and straightened his glasses.
"Well, he offered me a position in a new... ehm, government. Like, a new Ameridinian government."
S. turned his attention almost 90% to his client, now. Anything over 65% is rare. Eyebrows slowly raised. "So he was implying that one of your clients had information that could help usher in a new Post-Phenson-J-Maldekirk regime? The levers of power have been abdicated for a few weeks now... do you believe that he could be telling the truth?"
"In a word: Yes. He impressed upon me several points that sounded in congruence with what I know to be reality. But he did mention that there might be significant loss of life."
"This has never bothered us... rather, you... before."
"I know."
S. returned to his captivating gaze in the mirror. "I can't have mirrors in my house anymore. I walk past one and all of a sudden it's a day later and I've missed appointments, eating... once I forgot to breathe and lost consciousness.... I say meet with him, his name was Vlad or something? Suss it out, trust your instinct."
"I did ask you here for some law advice," Timothy was already regretting calling his lawyist, these consultations were never productive.
"Of course. You said that some person, perhaps a foreign operative, offered you... something?" S. moved his head but not his eyes from the mirror behind Timothy's desk.
"Sort of. I came in and saw that someone had intruded and absconded. I'm very particular about my files and there are very tender, secretive sorts of things in my business. Potential state secrets in particular if you believe in somnambulant projection. These are the things this, eh, gentleman was interested in. He approached me afterward on Main Street."
"And that is when he offered...? What exactly? Money? Votes?" S.'s gaze was veering toward the mirror again.
"Not exactly. He mentioned that I have access to things that could make life very interesting for him and me both. He... this is, like, covered by attourney/client stuff right? You can't tell anyone about this, right?"
"Mmhmm." S. adjusted his hair again and straightened his glasses.
"Well, he offered me a position in a new... ehm, government. Like, a new Ameridinian government."
S. turned his attention almost 90% to his client, now. Anything over 65% is rare. Eyebrows slowly raised. "So he was implying that one of your clients had information that could help usher in a new Post-Phenson-J-Maldekirk regime? The levers of power have been abdicated for a few weeks now... do you believe that he could be telling the truth?"
"In a word: Yes. He impressed upon me several points that sounded in congruence with what I know to be reality. But he did mention that there might be significant loss of life."
"This has never bothered us... rather, you... before."
"I know."
S. returned to his captivating gaze in the mirror. "I can't have mirrors in my house anymore. I walk past one and all of a sudden it's a day later and I've missed appointments, eating... once I forgot to breathe and lost consciousness.... I say meet with him, his name was Vlad or something? Suss it out, trust your instinct."