His hut had been finished a few days now...but he still didn't have a whole lot of furniture for it. He liked it that way, though...this was just a temporary shelter set up so he could get out of Jackson's hair while he waited for rescue. The waiting thing wasn't much fun, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it on his own ( Read more... )

After a day or two of nursing a hangover, and several days of writing up the patient care plan for Glitch, and another day or two of attempted woodworking, Dr. Beverly Crusher had had it with the tropics. It was at least something that she hadn't ended up sanding her hand off--she was used to places with limited economies, but there was always a ( Read more... )

There was no reason to visit Vera Misham once her verdict had been declared. No, he didn’t know what she must be feeling, but he could guess. Any half-decent ex-attorney would save a little girl the embarrassment of admitting she’d had an unwitting hand in ruining his life. She was a good kid, after all. And all’s well that ends well, right? ( Read more... )

Tropical island or no, Tabula Rasa did not serve well as the setting for a proper party. It had none of the class, none of the charm, none of the quality of alcohol that a proper London event might have had. Had they been home on April 16th, Guy Burgess' twenty-ninth birthday, it would have been a very different matter. There would have been a ( Read more... )

There is nothing more confounding than the concept of causality. Seemingly, the smallest bits of events made the largest impact, whereas the larger things only came of those smaller events. His friend and compatriot Clint would have put it into simpler terms, merely saying something along the way of "shit seems to snowball downhill ( Read more... )