The shopping list was fairly easy to follow. Eye nanos scanned my field of view as I looked around the store, highlighting matches with the letters on Sully’s paper. For example, I quickly found SlimFaust – the liquid soul food. Also into the basket went vials of cosmetics and preservatives, like those she used that morning.

For myself, I chose the blandest of food products. A loaf of plain brown bread and some yellow fruits, like bananas, that smelled pretty good. My hand hovered near a box of breakfast cereal. The illustration looked cheery enough at first, featuring ravenous kids surrounding a giant bowl full of what looked like… grinning Viking heads.

Canutes n’ Berries

It’s grendelicious!

Eat it slow or beowulf it down!

I vowed to have a talk with whoever programmed my nano-translators. If I ever made it home.

On impulse, I threw in a cheap brown jacket and one of the doggie collars. I’d surely be able to repay Sully. If not when we reached Professor Ping, then upon being reunited with the Clever Gamble. Perhaps Commander-Healer Paolim could even do something about the condition Sully and her friend were in – though I could hardly imagine how.

A clump of many-colored plastic coins fell on the counter from her handbag, when it came time to pay. While picking through the grimy pile, the clerk looked at me with disgust, as if to say “Are you sure you have a pulse?” I’m all but certain he short-changed me. But how could I protest? I didn’t know the local coinage and he’d have me dead to rights.

Taking up the bag of purchases, I left the store and turned right, seeking the alley where Sully and Moulder said they’d await me. I reached the corner, holding out her list. “I hope this is everything you wanted—”

Staring, I realized that my two dear-departed friends were gone.

In their place stood a lanky man wearing what looked a lot like a trenchcoat and battered fedora. Poking around, he used the toe of one shoe to nudge something small and smoldering… perhaps a bit that had fallen off of Moulder.

It didn’t take demmie instincts to know a cop when I saw one.

Shall I just step forward and introduce myself? Work my way up the ladder of officialdom? Take me to your leader?

As the fellow bent over to examine the site closer, his coat parted, revealing a vicious-looking gun strapped to one thigh – almost certainly not set to stun. Holstered alongside were several wooden stakes. And a hammer.

Maybe the authorities aren’t my best option, right now, I pondered, and started to back away…