“Which is why we have to walk to storage instead of having a robot deliver things,” she said.

“Exactly.”

“Right now, we have a meeting to arrange,” I said, changing the subject. I pointed at the image on the forward view, showing the CNN building in Atlanta. “Hopefully they don’t have any helicopters coming in.” I glanced around at Patrick, who had been silently watching the discussion while nursing a coffee. “Ready to go?”

“Let’s do this.” Patrick held up his phone and dialed. After a moment, he said, “Hello, news desk. We’re about to land our flying saucer on your helipad upstairs and are prepared to give an interview. Yes, I know it’s private prop—no, you don’t seem to—Oh, for fuck sake. You’re on the eighth floor, right? Look out your window in about ten seconds.”

“That is my cue,” Sheldon said. “Moving into position.”

Through the display window, the side of the building was heaving in close. Inside, I could see people looking up from their desks, then plastering themselves to the window.

“How ‘bout now?” Patrick snarled into the phone. “Want an interview now? We’ll be parked upstairs.”

The view slid away as Sheldon moved the ship to the top of the building. As we settled onto the roof, I stood, grabbed the suitcase on the table, and headed for the exit. “Let’s go get our fifteen minutes of fame.”

Patrick and I stepped down the airlock stairs just as the door to the roof burst open and several people hurried out, cameras and miscellaneous equipment draped over them. In the lead, a young woman speed-walked toward us, waving a microphone. “That’s … that’s … ”

“A flying saucer?” I replied. “Yep. Want to come in? Or should we go to your studio?”

“Can we do both? Okay, studio first. The acoustics and all are better. At least,” she looked uncertain, “I assume they are. I don’t actually know what you have in there.”

Patrick grinned back at her. “’S okay. Your turf is better. We have some stuff to show you, and it’s better if you don’t suspect a prepared stage of some kind.”

The reporter, whom I vaguely remembered as Charlene-something, gestured and led the way. Nat was staying on the Halo in case of emergency, although no one was sure what such an emergency would consist of.

We went down a couple of floors to an interior room with thick walls and a complicated lighting setup. I placed the briefcase on a convenient table and gestured to Charlene. “Open it up and remove the contents. Make sure you’re recording.”