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Cantata - completing last years Nano
Oct. 8th, 2007 11:06 amJust a bit before I go off to work....
As Wells left Zadar, driving over the bridge to the main land, sirens could be heard far behind him. Oddly, four fires had started in the warehouse district near the docs, at apparently the same time. The police report will list them as arson, and it will report that in all, eighteen people died in the fires. What will be absent from the police report will be that the people had all died before the fires, nor will it list that one of those people, one Murchek Grobchik, had eight slim needles stuck in him, and he perished with his eyes wide open.
"Sarah, would you say I look like an accountant?"
"I'm not sure of your reference, Herbert." Sarah's voice rose from the laptop. "What does an accountant look like?"
Wells smiled thinly. "I suppose an accountant looks like me. Or so I've been told."
A few seconds passed before Sarah replied. "I've accessed three hundred forty thousand images of accountants, Herbert, and none of them look like you. There appears to be no set pattern to the images, so there is no reference point I can use to answer you accurately."
"That's all right, Sarah. It was a rhetorical question, anyway." He glanced to the laptop's screen. They were approximately 140 miles from the Cantera Cafe. "One day. One day to get to Catanzaro. Two hours to Sistiana, thirty minutes to Trieste, and then eleven more to Catanzaro." He glanced at his watch. Nearly five o'clock. "Let's put a bit of speed on, Sarah. I've got a lot to do, a long way to go, and not a lot of time to get things done."
His foot gently pressed the accelerator and the little car surged forward.
As Wells left Zadar, driving over the bridge to the main land, sirens could be heard far behind him. Oddly, four fires had started in the warehouse district near the docs, at apparently the same time. The police report will list them as arson, and it will report that in all, eighteen people died in the fires. What will be absent from the police report will be that the people had all died before the fires, nor will it list that one of those people, one Murchek Grobchik, had eight slim needles stuck in him, and he perished with his eyes wide open.
"Sarah, would you say I look like an accountant?"
"I'm not sure of your reference, Herbert." Sarah's voice rose from the laptop. "What does an accountant look like?"
Wells smiled thinly. "I suppose an accountant looks like me. Or so I've been told."
A few seconds passed before Sarah replied. "I've accessed three hundred forty thousand images of accountants, Herbert, and none of them look like you. There appears to be no set pattern to the images, so there is no reference point I can use to answer you accurately."
"That's all right, Sarah. It was a rhetorical question, anyway." He glanced to the laptop's screen. They were approximately 140 miles from the Cantera Cafe. "One day. One day to get to Catanzaro. Two hours to Sistiana, thirty minutes to Trieste, and then eleven more to Catanzaro." He glanced at his watch. Nearly five o'clock. "Let's put a bit of speed on, Sarah. I've got a lot to do, a long way to go, and not a lot of time to get things done."
His foot gently pressed the accelerator and the little car surged forward.
