25

Timbella was stroking Deeter's hair when there was a knock on the door. He pulled back and looked at her. She stared back, shrugged, then put her finger to her lips.

She crept to the door and looked. Whoever it was chose that moment to knock again, knocking firmer. She walked backwards to Deeter, and whispered, very softly, "Ready that taser."

He did so. Watcher? How would she know? At best, someone she didn't want coming in. At worst, someone she didn't know, and who else would it be, but a Watcher? He pulled out the taser and made sure it was switched ON.

She pulled him gently towards the door. It opened inwards, and she put him by the hinges. She stood where the door would open, put her finger on her lips again, and said, "Who is it?"

The knocking ceased. "Officer Mynog," came the reply. Deeter froze. A Watcher, and what's more, one he'd been captured by before. He hoped his look, and readying the taser, would be enough for her to understand.

"Officer? What are, crazy? This is Kwee City! I know my rights, you bastard."

"You're harboring a fugitive. You don't have many rights in this situation."

"A fugitive? Are you shitting me?"

"Cut the bullshit, woman. Open the door or I'll break it down."

She mouthed something too quietly for the translator to pick up, but he figured it meant "Get ready." He nodded at her, and she said "If that's what it takes," then unlocked the door. "Come on in."

He opened the door. "I hope you'll be reasonable about this." Deeter could only see the back of his head as he closed the door behind him without looking. He supposed it could have been another Watcher, but the voice, the significant height, and the dark greased-back hair all pointed to Mynog. "Where is he?"

"He must be in the kitchen," she said, and then Deeter pulled the trigger. The cartridge shot out and hit his locally-suitable suit jacket. He began convulsing and fell to the ground. Deeter turned off the gun, pulled the cartridge off Mynog's back, and hit the REWIND button. The cartridge wires wound back up, pulling the cartridge with it. It had taken less than a minute, and only after replacing the taser did he realize what had happened. He let out a shriek and almost collapsed, right next to Mynog.

"Crap! Deeter!" She slapped his face, albeit gently.

"I'm fine," he croaked. He took a deep breath. "Fine," he repeated in a more normal voice.

"I'm sure. We better get the hell out of here. If one can find you, another can."

He let out a weak chuckle. "Can't we tie him up and torture him a little first?"

"Sure, if you think that's more important."

"A joke. Grab some clothes and let's run."

"Although maybe tying him up isn't a bad idea." She went into the kitchen and came back with twine and scissors. "It's not much but it'll keep him occupied when he wakes up."

Deeter nodded. They split it up, him doing the ankles, her doing the wrists. Afterwards, she stood up and went to get a small bag. "It's already got a day's worth of clothing in it. Parents are demanding sometimes." She grabbed her purse and keys and led Deeter out of her apartment.

Once outside, she said softly, "We'll check into a hotel at the end of the train line, and then figure things out."

He nodded. He was still a bit faded from the attack. He couldn't believe that Mynog was still after him. Well, now he would be, certainly. Being knocked out could make one take things more personally...