He brought up a third picture from another file. In this one Karen Rhinehart appeared in the laboratory with her colleagues. She wore a starched white coat like the white coat that Fareed wore now. Her hair was brushed back so severely in this photo that it might have been brutally unflattering, but it was not. She had a strong chin and a calm determined look, and for some reason, some indefinable reason, she stood out from the others glaringly to Fareed’s eye as if she’d been cut from another picture entirely and pasted into place. Well, she had not. But she was not human. And that is what he saw and what he sensed.

“I do have too much to do now,” Fareed said dully, eyes still studying her. “That’s true. But I want to go to Geneva and have a look at her without her looking at me. I want to get into her living quarters….”

“Fareed, my employees trust me not to violate their privacy or their dignity.”

“Gregory, be serious! If I wanted to bring her over, you wouldn’t have the slightest objection.”

“Look, Fareed, the woman must work late hours. They all do. They’re all there in the evening hours. You can watch her by video feed. Every laboratory and office is video monitored.”

“Ah, I didn’t think of that!”

“I’ll give you access.”

“You don’t have to,” Fareed confessed. “Why didn’t I think of it? Of course.”

His fingers were flying over the keyboard, the keyboard specially engineered to accommodate his preternatural speed.

“I’m in,” he whispered, quickly entering the data to home in on the correct laboratory, and all files on record of that laboratory and none other.

“Well, enjoy it,” said Gregory with a faint mocking laugh. “Have a wonderful morning watching her every move for the last ten years. As for me, I’m going out. These long winter nights exhaust me but it’s worth it. I want to walk for a while on my own.”

Gregory moved to the tall fruitwood secrétaire à abattant against the wall, and tucked the deck of cards in its middle drawer. He turned to the door but then doubled back, and bending over Fareed he planted a kiss on his head.

“I love you, you know. I love your brilliance and your single-mindedness. I love that you’re so patient with all of us.”

Fareed smiled and offered a small nod. He reached up, found the hand he hoped would be there, and clasped it. But his eyes were on the task in front of him. He barely heard Gregory’s footsteps as he left the room.

The great three-storied house was silent and seemingly empty around Fareed. The mortal servants were asleep in their wing. The pavements were deserted. Mortals in their surrounding apartments slept. There were faint threads of music in the air.