inancier, tting sun reflects from a pair of mirrored s and click back toget takes on a sloion quality. ’s a dry voice and it reminds umn and dried leaves.

    t of tleman le  feel to reveal steel gray eyes. t suggests some kind of computing activity in time upo an approximation of a smile. ts motionless in t seat. All Cald of black ting very still.

    “My name is Bruce Fouler. For no’s just say I am in t,” rasps the man.

    “I bet its lip service, mostly to its rear.” Cald was in his DNA.

    tic about Fouler, like a pedop invisible candy. terious about t’s a face t seems to understand ties of y. tal quality to  efficient  toget sounds like it er sequencer. And tley.

    “C udent here called Cad Caldwell. I wonder if you know him.”

    Sometells Cald talking to and is daring o spin a yarn. s ial instinct to tell a lie.

    “t  do you   into old guys?” Cald  know how.

    “Sorry to  your parents, Cad,” Fouler offers. Caldects a faint moistening of t t reflected in the car?

    “It’s cool. So ?”

    “OK, I am not going to beat around tcivities on ters.”

    A look of alarm comes over ed.

    “Don’t o arrest you, ime ago. You’ve breacy systems of some important institutions you know.”

    “Yeah?”

    “Yea t your fat.”

    “ Xian University,” Caldered.

    “t may be t ant professor. Can I trust you, Cad? t I need to be guaranteed absolute trusthiness.”

    “I swear on Madonna,” .

    “t’s good enough. have you heard of GChQ?