ref: a00feb029ddcea6188f4324169e5f2b6a389de4e
dir: /troff/_-0208.ms/
.PP .ps 10 He smelled solder. Something in his room was burning. But he had already checked out, removed his belongings, so nothing of his could be burning because there was nothing there to burn. He pulled on his jacket and walked out of the building. .PP .ps 10 His ship crossed the country in a handful of minutes. It wasn't in the manual, but he and the ship went way back, their mutual understanding transcending any supposed laws of nature. Mother and son, they were meant to be. .PP .ps 10 The sky was fluid mercury as the ship set down in New York. Docked with the Chrysler Building's airship terminal and disembarked for the gift shop. He'd pick something up for the ship before continuing on with his task. His brother could wait a few extra minutes while he shopped. .PP .ps 10 Waited in line longer than he had planned, but he was certain now that he'd been spotted. The building, at least, had recognized him, and flickered the lights in the gift shop accordingly. He'd have to work around it. .PP .ps 10 T never showed up to greet him. It turned out the elevators were out of service, again. Perversely, T had moved his office to the 61st floor observation deck, so it was up, up, up, many flights of stairs to the family reunion. Okay. .PP .ps 10 "Brother," T said, as the former chief of the west coast branch of the company strode silently into his office. .PP .ps 10 "I'm not your brother," he said, staring directly into T's visor. .PP .ps 10 "Fine. But do have a seat," T said. .PP .ps 10 He remained standing. .PP .ps 10 "Please. You're making this more difficult than it needs to be." .PP .ps 10 Conceding the point, he raised his weapon and squeezed the trigger.