Since I can’t remember why I wrote this short story, or what the title really means, I guess I can’t say much this time. All I know is that it was written back in 1997, and it’s just kind of a crime story with a touch of science-fiction. I admit that before posting it here, I read it like new. So new, that I could have sworn that it wasn’t written by me, if I didn’t know better. This is also based on the fact, that this is the second short story with a criminal vein that I post. Sometimes I wonder if I really write sci-fi and fantasy, because what I try to do is write about people, who just happen to be in different times and places than our own. And, in fact, I’m pretty stingy when describing the said times and places. I’ve always preferred the type of dialogue-driven stories of Heinlein, so this one might be considered uncharacteristic for me, because the dialogue is quite scarce, and not too witty at that. But who knows — someone might like it.

Enjoy the story.