(no subject)
At 1658, Dr. Llewellyn Jordan leaves his office, humming tunelessly under his breath, bag slung over his shoulder, tie loosened, jacket folded over his arm.
If he takes a right, as he usually does, that takes him to the station, where he picks up the eastbound train. Sometimes it takes him to the parking deck, if he's running late.
Today, however, Dr. Jordan takes a left, heading back toward the hospital proper. The days all start late, he thinks, running through lyrics in his head, there's motion on the boughs where the dark shapes prowl. The cloak and dagger amuses him; the senator's suit in charge of secret meetings is a very crisp lady, very businesslike, and he's been hard-pressed not to start grinning and quoting action vids whenever he's been in contact with her.
Still: his aunt and his partners know where he is, his aunt has copies of their correspondence, and he's got them under strict orders to contact the authorities (and Simon Tam) if he doesn't check in by a certain hour.
There's a particular bench under a cluster of trees that he's supposed to be heading for. He has a seat, pulls out his datapad, and by all evidence seems to immerse himself in the day's feeds.
If he takes a right, as he usually does, that takes him to the station, where he picks up the eastbound train. Sometimes it takes him to the parking deck, if he's running late.
Today, however, Dr. Jordan takes a left, heading back toward the hospital proper. The days all start late, he thinks, running through lyrics in his head, there's motion on the boughs where the dark shapes prowl. The cloak and dagger amuses him; the senator's suit in charge of secret meetings is a very crisp lady, very businesslike, and he's been hard-pressed not to start grinning and quoting action vids whenever he's been in contact with her.
Still: his aunt and his partners know where he is, his aunt has copies of their correspondence, and he's got them under strict orders to contact the authorities (and Simon Tam) if he doesn't check in by a certain hour.
There's a particular bench under a cluster of trees that he's supposed to be heading for. He has a seat, pulls out his datapad, and by all evidence seems to immerse himself in the day's feeds.