Sutter’s hand shook as he slid the keycard into the slot. He missed real keys. He missed the weight of them in his pocket. He missed the artistry that used to go into creating the truly unique ones.
Most of all, he missed the way they always worked because there was never any mistaking which end you had to stick inside the lock.
With a muttered curse at the flashing red light that indicated the door was still secured, he tore the card out of the slot, flipped it around, and tried again. When the light turned green, he twisted the handle and shoved the door open as swiftly as he could, unwilling to miss this narrow window of opportunity modern technology was granting him.
His toe caught on a skinny strip of the worn carpet that had the weft unraveled at some point in the distant past. Bl
