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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 122: Kondor 296
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Slade 291

Staring at the painting in front of him partly to attempt to give the impression that the intelligent, capable, and attractive woman next to him was not distracting, Kondor said, “I have a rule about favors.”
“Oh? And what’s that?” Amanda responded.
“I never agree to do them until I know what they are.”
“I suppose that makes good sense. Generally I say that I will do them a favor, but not that one. I like your reply better.”
He nodded and waited for her to continue. Finally he prompted her. “So?”
“How are you for travel?”
“I can go anywhere my bike can take me, provided I can back in a reasonable time if I’m called.”
“Your boss doesn’t worry about you?”
“It’s difficult to explain, but my boss can always track my position by satellite.”
“Some kind of embedded tracking device--can we remove it, or jam it?”
“It’s not at all like that. I probably can’t explain how it does work, and probably if I could you would wind up on a list of enemies of the state. My secret organization that doesn’t exist is comprised of quite a few secret people who don’t exist, and I’m one of them. Because of something not quite unique but rare in the extreme about me, I can be tracked with special equipment. That’s probably already more than you should know, but if you’re asking me to do something for you, and it’s the sort of thing I suspect, you should know that my movements are recorded in intricate detail, and you can’t turn that off.”
She stood, thinking about it. Kondor wasn’t sure whether she was trying to decide whether or not to believe him, or whether this fact made a difference.
“I’ll get back to you,” she said, and turned to leave.
“Hey, before you go,” he said, “would you like to--what do people do in England? Go out for coffee?”
“Usually it’s grab a beer, but I don’t really care for beer.”
“Me, neither. Anyway, I’m not particularly good at this. I’m trying to ask you out socially.”
“What do you mean, you’re not very good at this? I thought you were married before.”
“It was an arranged marriage?”
“Seriously?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you about it if you have coffee with me.”
“It’s a date. I’ll let you know when and where.”
He nodded, and she left.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
