Page 58 of Static/Cling

“That was always the plan,” Kassian reminded him. “You two aren’t even supposed to be in here.”

“Can we get on with it?” Sal said. “I don’t want Rog on his own any longer than necessary.”

“You guys have to cut him a break.” Leif settled into a cross-legged pose, back against the wall. “He isn’t nearly as helpless as y’all seem to think.”

“Not the time for team building,” Kassian said.

“If not now, when?” Leif muttered.

Kassian tossed a look in his general direction, but didn’t let the snark derail his concentration. “Sal?”

“Right. Follow the wall. Stay behind the bushes until you find the storeroom.”

Kassian set off, following their directions, and soon enough, came into contact with the storage building in question.

“You see the doorway on the west wall?” Sal asked.

“How detailed are your plans?”

“Do you see it?”

“Yes, yes. I see it.”

“You should be able to move out of the bushes and under that awning, and from there, along the covered walk to the back of the main building. That’s where you’ll need your ID Just openthe door—they aren’t locked inside the compound—and show your ID to whoever asks.”

“You’re sure it will pass.”

“Hello. This is me.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Once you’re past that checkpoint, you follow the corridor to the last left, take that, and the elevators are about halfway down. Take them up to the top floor, and you’ll want the office right at the front of the building.

“How do you know?”

“Trust me.”

“I do. Implicitly. But you have a lot of intel on the inside of a secret building.”

“You’re about to go inside where there may be other people around. You have to stop talking to me. We don’t want anyone thinking you’re cracked enough to be talking to yourself.”

“No, I suppose we don’t.” It was nice of them to say that like he didn’t actually talk to himself on the regular.

“And Kassian…”

“I know, I know.” He grinned, because of course. “Don’t actually talk to myself.”

“Just be careful. You don’t always realize you’re doing it.”

They weren’t wrong. Most of the time, yeah, he totally knew he was arguing with himself. Just that some of the time, he did it without realizing he was doing it on the outside of his head.

Sal’s directions were spot on. At the first checkpoint, Kassian showed the ID to the bored-looking clerk behind the plexiglass.

The clerk frowned at the card, frowned at Kassian, and held up a finger, telling him to wait.

He’d never wanted so badly to confer with someone—anyone, even the beef-head in his own brain—than he did as he watched the clerk make a phone call. The conversation was brief,with the clerk looking confused through most of it, but then he was waved through.

He didn’t hesitate but hurried down the corridor, expecting a hue and cry behind him at any minute. None came.

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