My depression is lifting. My thanks to those who offered their sympathy.
Grothnir raised his
Grothnir paused just long enough for the guard to whip out his glistening sword and hold it with two shaking hands in front of him. Grothnir sighed. He didn’t have time to finish this.
“You’re lucky,” he said to the quivering guard, and disappeared.
Thomas Aznable frowned into the dark grey void of inactive VR; he was clsoe to levelling up Grothnir to level 10, which was the practical minimum before anyone would really talk to you in the Lotharian Nights. Client B was anxious for progress in the Case of the Two Missing Swords, and he was the nervous type, always wanting a status report. Still. The beeper meant new business.
Thomas made a few hand gestures to pull up his main interface, then touched the pulsing red box as it appeared. A large,
“Hello,” the avatar said in a high, whining man’s voice. Sounded like a
Thomas pushed that thought away; this was business. “Yes?” he replied, trying to be courteous despite his mild annoyance.
“I…uhhh…I understand you…find things,” the avatar said, fidgeting slightly. This was why Thomas loved virphones; they provided such a rich library of body language. And you could have the body of a
“Yes,” he replied, keeping his voice cool and neutral, “on any
The avatar fidgeted. “I need you to switch to a secure connection first.”