I knew he was, I could see his profile indicating contribution in my Devstick, but it was a matter of form that we allowed the assistants to interpret our mood for seeing or not seeing visitors.“Hi, Jonah. Yes he is. Would you like some tea? He’s drinking a coffee and catching up on the feeds just now,” she said and reaching under her Clearfilm desk pressed a button that opened the door to Bill’s space.“Er, no thanks. This shouldn’t take too long,” I said as I walked past her into Bill’s contribution space. The view out of the double windows of the converted Chinese shop house showed Clarke Quay with the Singapore river in the background, curving down to Bonham Place. Bill sat at the far end of the room on an easy chair. The room was white but the furniture was black. It reminded me a little of the White Room. The heels of my shoes sounded loud on the painted white wooden floorboards as I walked the floor between us. Bill’s face registered a slight puzzled frown, quickly replaced by a smile, as he saw my casual attire.
