Chapter 10
This time, though, the crashing sound was real enough, and it was accompanied by a strange phenomenon: The North Tower started listing. Like the decks of the Titanic, the floor tilted, sending desks, chairs, file cabinets, computers, files, coffee mugs—indeed, everything that wasn’t nailed down, which was practically everything—cascading onto the blue-green carpet that was a ubiquitous feature of Brynner & Sons.
Time was a funny thing: It constricted or expanded, depending on the depth of your agony. Jade didn’t know how long the building kept leaning, and he didn’t care. All he knew was that it seemed to go on forever, though it probably lasted only about ten seconds or so. He would’ve wished that the experience—the most frightening of his life—would end except that he recogn
