She had no idea what was out there—or whether it was similar to the first…

Or completely and utterly different.

***

They arrived back at the college just past noon, hoping Townsend’s first class had let out or shortly would.  They stood in the hall as the door finally opened and a small stream of students poured out, eventually followed by a tall, thin black man with glasses and short white hair dressed in comfortable shirt and slacks.

Clearly distracted, he glanced only briefly in their direction, and promptly strode to his office door across the hall, stepping in and quietly closing it behind him.

“Chatty fellow.”

Angela grinned.  “You just look scary.  More like mean,” she teased and walked toward the office.

He was peering at his laptop screen when the door opened, and the woman from the hall peeked in.  “Professor Townsend?”

“Can I help you?”

She glanced back as Townsend studied her and then the larger man as he stepped in.

“May we have a word with you?” Angela asked.

The older man checked his watch and nodded, staring up as both she and Rickards stepped closer.

“We’ve come to talk to you about something.”

He clasped his hands together and placed them on the desk in front of him.  “What can I help you with?”

“Well,” Angela took a deep breath.  “It’s actually, more like who.  An old friend of yours.”

Townsend’s expression turned curious.

“His name is Mike Morton.”

If Rickards and Angela were expecting a reaction, they didn’t get one.  Townsend’s expression never changed.

“Okay.”

“Um,” she glanced again at Rickards, “do you remember him?”

Townsend stared at her for a long moment.  “Yes, I do.”  His attention moved to Rickards.  “Are you from the government or something?”

“Sort of.”

“Is he in some kind of trouble?”

Angela started to speak but stopped.  She didn’t know how to say this.  “I’m… afraid he’s passed away.”

Townsend stared at her again, his mouth falling into a frown.  “I’m very sorry to hear that.”  Again, he turned to Rickards.  “I haven’t spoken to him in some time, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“Not exactly.  May we sit down?”

The professor motioned to two chairs, his gaze following them as they sat.

“Do you recall the last time you spoke with him?”

Townsend pursed his lips thoughtfully and eased back.  “A long time ago.  Probably seven or eight years.”

“Nothing since then?”

“No.”

“Was there a problem between you two?”

“Not really.” He shrugged.  “His wife had just died.”

“Did you know his wife?”

“Yes.  Very well.  She and my wife were friends.”

“And you and Mike?”

“Also friends.  We worked together most of our careers.”

“That was at NASA?”

His face returned to a curious expression.  “Did something unusual happen to him?”

“It’s a longer story than you may think.  Are we keeping you from anything?”