—ON SUPREMACY, CHAPTER VI AGAIN, THE MAN PROBED. “You have the manuscript, Dr. Jaspers?” Xander’s eyes fixed on the face above, a narrow oval atop a thin neck. Had he been standing, Xander would have towered over the slouching figure. But he was trapped, knees drawn tight to his chest, a child caught, certain of unspeakable punishment. There was, of course, the alley of shelves behind him, the long expanse of shadow with its promise of escape, but what was the use? No doubt, the bald giant stood somewhere in the dark recesses, happy to let his more diminutive counterpart take the first crack at interrogation. The man seemed content to let his prey make the first move. Xander could offer little more than a nod to the man’s question. “Good.” Again, the cold precision of the northern European accent. Xander slowly raised the small leather book toward his captor, the weight of the tiny volume somehow too much for him. “Oh, no, you hold on to it, Doctor. I would not know what to do with it.”
