Two years ago, this would have been one of the nicer areas in Earth Gimel, if a little basic. No-name grocery store, clothing store, and home-goods store. It was dated already, and I could already imagine two years from now, when various murals might be faded or defaced, when the metal chairs and tables would be rusted, the stores closed or forgotten. The snake cut through the plaza, which could have seated two hundred people, but currently had six. Any earlier and there would have been people having a late lunch. Any later and it would be time for an early dinner or an after-work bite to eat.

A tunnel led through the body of one of the apartment buildings, leading from plaza to parking lot. The mural of a cat with its back twisting and arching was painted on the walls and roof. Its paws stuck out and across the footpath firmly pressed down on the snake’s neck.

‘Wait’ was the last instruction.

I checked my phone. One message:

K:
K.

I flicked my thumb, spun up the music player and then fished my earbuds out of the pocket of my jacket. I put only one in, so I could keep one ear out for trouble.

I waited long enough for five songs to start and stop. A pair of people arrived at the plaza, got their food, ate, and left, before anything happened. I wondered more than once if I’d been baited to come here as a way of making me waste time.

“You get fifteen minutes.”

I turned my head in the direction of the parking lot, turning off my music and pulling the ear-bud free. I moved my hand in a circle to catch most of the length of cord in a loop.

Tattletale had reversed her costume colors from black on lavender to a more royal purple on black. The same pattern of lines slashing across her costume remained—horizontal line across the upper chest, vertical line slashing down from that, to form a stylized ‘T’. Another horizontal line jutted out from halfway down, followed by another vertical line piercing that line, a smaller ‘t’ nestled under the right arm of its big brother. She wasn’t the type to get photographed or caught clearly on video, and it was painted in such broad strokes that I suspected many people missed it.

It kind of smacked of narcissism, I felt, to wear one’s initials. The more black costume, at least, looked more distinguished. Her hair needed a bit of combing, like it had been tousled by the wind and it hadn’t been fixed.