Saturday, December 5, 2009

It's been a long time since he spoke to me - or to any of us - but the last time he did he asked me if I thought he was going mad. He thought he might have a drink problem not of his making but one.

Behind a huge polished oak desk littered with paperwork. "Abernathy " he said again as if not yet convinced of it. "What are you doing here?" Abernathy was no longer shaking. When the guards had captured him he had been so terrified that he could barely stand. Now he accepted his situation with the weary resignation of the condemned and his acceptance gave him a small dose of renewed strength. He tried to keep his voice calm. "Questor Thews sent me here.
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Think he just pressurized the cabin. " Eddie nodded looking around with wide eyes. "I felt it too. Look at this place! Wow!" He had once read of an aviation company--Regent Air it might have been--that had catered to people who wanted to fly between New York and Los Angeles in a grander style than airlines such as Delta and United allowed for. They had operated a customized 727 complete with drawing room bar video lounge and sleeper compartments. He imag-ined the interior of that plane must have looked a little like what he was seeing now. 252 They were standing in a long tubular room furnished with plush-upholstered swivel chairs and modular sofas. At the far end of the com-partment which had to be at least eighty feet long was an area that looked not like a bar but a cosy bistro. An instrument that could have.
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