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She wore no makeup, which I didn't think it was allowed when she was in uniform anyway. There just wasn't anything attractive about her except her eyes. They were bright green and momentarily reminded me of Erin's.The detective approached me. "Mr. Setton, I'm Detective Arneson and this is Officer Jones."The detective's name caught me off guard, because it was the same as the Lady of House Isaacs. I was expecting to deal with completely normal humans for this. If he was a Mind Magi, my alibi could be shot full of holes.The detective shook my hand and a gold mark appeared at the corner of his mouth. It was a small vertical line, just like what Dr. Holzer's looked like before I shared my ability to heal with him. The detective would know if I was lying.I did my best to relax. "The hotel staff called. I understand something happened in my room?" Yes, we're not entirely sure what happened. All we know is one of the hotel staff went up to do her rounds of cleaning and found the door of. It was a good thing his tests were straight out of the book or everybody would flunk. And it was a required course.For once, I was wide awake. But not because of the life cycle of the mosquito. I was waiting. I actually listened to Bower; not the content, but his delivery. How the hell could he talk and talk without changing his pitch or tone even a little? Did he know he did it? Did he ever notice that half his class was asleep and the other half, dazed?An aide from the office came in and set a stack of newspapers on the corner of Bower's desk. Bower either didn't notice or didn't care, because his delivery on the blood sucking tendencies of the mosquito didn't waiver. The man was amazing in a tragic sort of way. The papers always got delivered second period. When the bell rang, everybody would grab one on their way out.I wondered if Bower would notice if I got up and started passing them out. I glanced at the clock over the door. Fifteen minutes.The door banged open, waking.
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I wasn’t surprised. We’d all been masked at the early twice-yearly club meetings I’d been attending for the past two years as well. All of the other members and the support staff were masked when I entered the house. The lights were on, but dim and the music was muted, which had prevented the sound from floating across the waters of the lake. There was no conversation, but there were other men beyond the tuxedo-clad club members in the extensive ground-floor rooms. There was a bar and barman who took drink orders by signals and showing of bottles until one satisfied and there were black-clad and masked waiters roaming around with trays of fancy nibbles. And, of course, there were the security men. There were many billion dollars’ worth of men being serviced here.There were maybe a dozen club members, like me, present, ranging in age from early thirties to into their early sixties. At thirty-four, I was one of the youngest. We were all in tuxedoes. Each of us was given a gold badge.

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