Three days had passed since he had briefed Gill in the snow-covered arctic pit, and during the entire return trip Polian had rarely even been chilly in his armor. But psychologically he craved the tea mug’s warmth. The human mind convinced itself of things that weren’t true. This morning, Polian was counting on that weakness.The door guard unlocked, then opened, one of the translucent entry doors that spanned the corridor’s far end. The door’s hinge creak echoed through air that smelled of disinfectant as daylight flashed in.A man dressed in Tressen civvies, tall even for Yavi military, stepped through sideways. The tall man wrestled a metal case with both hands, then set it down in the corridor and flexed his fingers while the guard closed and relocked the door. The man was slender, hawk-faced, and the echoes of his panting breath displaced the sound of the door lock clicking.After a full minute, the man picked up the case again, walked down the corridor, and set the case down in front of Polian.
