Argent sat with his back against the right front wheel of the Rover, watching the afternoon sun and strumming the well-worn Martin, thinking. He had his feet propped up on Bannock's sleeping belly, and felt the sunlight warming his toes.

...it would make the mountains ring,
If I had you.
If I had you..
In between the rains and the seasons they send,
The pain that a word from you can command,
But I would gladly trade away winter winds that swing
Through all the rites of Spring, if I had you,
If I had wings..."
But I would travel this world,
Richer than a king,
With a million gifts to bring, if I had you,
If I had wings....


The half-forgotten lyrics brought him calm, which he had not felt all day. He kept running the patterns of the jade tablet through his mind, and the strange ghostly outlines revealed in his camera's viewfinder by the colored lenses in certain combinations. He knew what they looked like, but he was seriosuly balking at falling into a Close Encounters frame of mind. HE needed a better explanation.

The microcell in his shirt pocket rang and he answered it, squinting up toward the still unmoving baby cumulus above the lake. As he listened to Theresa's report, his face grew a couple of shades paler, and his feet jerked so hard he woke up the dog.