The door opened behind me.
I did not turn.
"Who approved it?" I asked.
Silas did not answer immediately.
That was answer enough to make the room colder.
When he spoke, his voice was level. "Commercial access committee."
"That sounds convenient."
"It is not convenient."
"No," I said. "It sounds designed to make no one responsible."
The silence behind me changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition, maybe.
I finally turned.
Silas stood just inside the studio, jacket gone, sleeves rolled, glasses back on. The wire frames should have made him look more civilized. They did not. He looked like a man who had already solved three problems and disliked the fourth because it involved my consent.
His gaze went once to the display.
Then to my face.
"I can challenge it," he said.
"Challenge."
"
