“I don’t know. I…” To be honest, I was a little scared. Those of us who are rarely sick are inclined to panic whenever our bodies let us down. But somewhere out there (I didn’t ask for it; I was careful not to) was a motorcycle. It might not have anything to do with anything. Except, except—Oh, hell. Hawthorn had spoken with the Wise Voice of Benevolent Authority, and besides, he was right. I would wait for Rico at home.

I stood up. “As soon as she gets in, okay?” I said.

Hawthorn nodded. “Immediately. She’ll say you did exactly the right thing.”

“I hope so,” I muttered. As I went out the door, I made an acknowledging gesture at the other three cops. The two new ones raised their teacups to me. Vic said,

“See ya, Mutant Boy.” I blew him a kiss, but I didn’t have the nerve to wait for a reaction.

Dawn was just about to spill over the edge of the horizon. The sky was battleship gray, and if there wasn’t yet enough light to read by, there soon would be. The air was moist with a little cutting edge of coolness. It was like menthol in my throat and lungs, and I took in lots of it. That, and the exercise of walking, brought me closer to awake. The more awake I was, of course, the more the sense of unfinished business nagged at me.

I had to go find the damn motorcycle. If I found it, I could give Rico the address when she came ‘round to my place, and go back to sleep. I wouldn’t do anything about it by myself; in fact, I would try not to be seen in the vicinity of the bike, for fear someone would get nervous and make the thing disappear before the cops got there. Nothing too demanding. Just locate it and go home. That seemed to dispose of every objection I could think of. I hoped it covered the ones that Rico or the Ticker might have, on the grounds of either good police work or my personal safety.

Now, where… ah. Thataway. I turned off Chrystoble, following my muse. I felt better already.

I know, I know. Any reasonable person (and even I, now) will look at the decision to go find the bike and think, “Hey, what was that funny noise? Guess I’ll go down into the dark basement alone and check it out.” And that’s not the only decision I’ve ever made that would cause one to think that. In this case, I plead exhaustion and obsession, and can only tell you that it seemed like a swell idea at the time.