byHe slipped on the jacket and scanned around the corner of the hall outside before he got to the door.
“I psi,” whispered the pin in his lapel.
Egan Rains let go of the knob and felt for the emblem. It was inconspicuous, smaller than his thumbnail, the disc of the moon against a dark blue background. The markings delineated a face on the moon, and two radiating antennae.
Rains frowned and rolled it in his fingers. He thought he’d stripped himself of unnecessary identification. No harm done since no one in India had seen it on him, or heard it—yet. He looked at the emblem regretfully, turned it over. The back was inscribed: American Association of Psi Astronomers. It had sentimental value but he’d have to get rid of it.
He went to the disposer slot and dropped it into the wall. The ins
