‘Morganville? Sure, you can. Sorry. Native caution is very normal. I’ve always been so careful about not discussing Myrnin that I often forget to use his name even when I’m able. Speaking of the man, I hear he’s better now.’

‘Better than he was when I got there.’

‘Ah. That’s good. I didn’t want to leave, but he was just too unstable for his good or mine, and I thought it was better if he had a vampire assistant for a while. Did he?’

‘I – don’t know. He’s never told me much about people he worked with before me. I know that he, um …’

‘Killed a lot of them? Yes, I know that too. And, of course, he killed the sainted Ada. He’ll never get over her.’ That earned an exasperated eye roll, which stopped when Dr Anderson noticed Claire wasn’t smiling. ‘What?’

‘Ada’s – well, dead, I guess. I suppose technically this would be the third and final time. As in, not coming back.’

Dr Anderson covered her mouth with one hand, and closed her eyes for a brief moment. ‘How’d he take that?’

‘Not very well,’ Claire admitted. ‘He kind of lost it. But he’s better now. I think it helped, letting go. He still has these – episodes, but they’re not as bad as they used to be most of the time. More aggravating than terrifying.’

‘That’s quite a change,’ her new professor said, and looked at Claire with more assessment. ‘You’ve done something I was never able to do, then. Congratulations. I was informed Myrnin had cracked the code on the disease—’

‘We’re calling it Bishop’s Plague these days.’

‘Ah. Bishop’s Plague … but now I think you had more to do with solving it than he did. Right?’

Claire didn’t answer. She looked around the office – though it was more junk room and lab than office – and saw a small, cluttered table stuffed in the corner. It had a duct-taped, sagging office chair, but no visitor accommodations. ‘Is this where we’re going to work?’

‘This? No. Definitely not. I was just tinkering while I was waiting for you. Before we go, you’ll need ID.’

‘I have a student ID card—’

‘Not that.’ Dr Anderson went to her desk, opened and closed drawers, muttered, and finally came up with some kind of black magnetic strip card with a logo on it that looked eerily familiar – the Founder’s sign. She typed and moused on the computer, then ran the card through a mag strip device. ‘Here. Press your thumb in the box where it says.’ She passed Claire a small tablet device, and Claire did as requested. While she did, the tablet clicked, and she realised it had taken a picture, too. Before she could ask about it, Dr Anderson took it back and tapped on the screen, then took the mag strip card she’d made and put it into a small white device attached to the computer.