D A Novel (George Right) - By George Right Page 0,14

drinking... or even going to a toilet? It is more logical to assume that the damned cellphone is buggy.

Then Logan's gaze moved to the left corner of the screen, where the signal level indicator should be. He expected to see there, at the best, the usual five bars, or in the worst case–none, although, of course, in New York there could be no open air place not covered by cellular communication. But what he was unprepared for was total emptiness. In the left top corner was missing not only signal bars, but even the icon of an aerial.

Well, of course. The popular Japanese thing had fritzed out. However, it was only Japanese in name, but where it was assembled actually... that damned globalization! Luckily, the warranty had not expired yet...

Nevertheless he opened his contacts list and examined the names. Logan lived alone and had no close friends–so, perhaps, among people in his telephone directory, there was nobody who could be called in the middle of night without a very serious reason. Not that he expected to receive any help, but simply wanted to check whether the phone actually worked or not. Probably to key in any random number and then to apologize for a mistake is better than to disturb those who know you...

So he made his call, taking for a basis the number of one of his colleagues and having changed a pair of digits. He heard no ring. Nothing at all. But Tony knew that it was not the silence of an inoperable phone. Simply the call was taken on the other end before the first ring. The call was taken, but no answer was given.

"Hello?" Tony said uncertainly. "Hello, Jim?"

It was the first name which came to his mind and he thought at the same moment how funny it would be if the unknown call recipient was actually Jim.

However, whoever it was did not respond. There still were no sounds on the phone. But Tony nevertheless felt that someone was listening.

"Sorry," he said, "I mistook the number," and hung up.

All the same, most likely, it was a malfunction of the cellphone. Tony folded it and began to put into his pocket.

The phone rang.

In the deserted night street its melody seemed a siren roar to Logan, and he, having shuddered in fright, hastily pressed the green button with a receiver picture only to stop this noise.

"Hello?" he said in much lower voice.

Silence.

"Are you the one I just called? Excuse me, I've already said it was an mistake. I think my phone is malfunctioning."

Tony waited a little more, but, still receiving no response, said, "Good night," and disconnected. And then he looked at options to lower the phone's loudness.

But before he could change anything, the phone rang again.

"Hello!" Logan bellowed with irritation.

He got no answer again.

"Well, fine," Tony thought, "I can be silent, too!" He demonstrated this ability during the next minute, and then, still having achieved nothing, again moved his finger to the red button. But before he had time to hang up, he heard... sounds. As if something rotten and slimy moved, sticking together and coming unstuck again. The same sounds as in the train intercom.

Logan reflexively pressed the button, breaking the communication.

Hastily having left options mode, he entered "Received Calls". He was almost assured that he would see the same number he has typed before, but wanted to be sure.

He was mistaken. No, it was not another number. There was no number at all. Only a name: "Edward Luciano."

Tony did not know any Edward Luciano and, naturally, did not have him in his contact list. Among his acquaintances there was nobody with an Italian name at all. Besides, the number should be highlighted anyway... What the hell is it? A virus? Tony had heard about viruses for cell phones... Just in case he chose "Options–Block."

The phone rang again, vibrating in his fingers.

Logan shook so violently that he nearly dropped the device. Then he pressed the switch-off button and waited until the screen went out. Having thought a little more, he pulled out the battery and SIM card and stuffed them in different pockets.

The phone was silent and showed no signs of life. Tony looked at it mistrustfully, thinking that if it made a sound again, he would throw it in the nearest trash can, and the hell with how much he had paid for this miracle of technology. First, though, a trash can needed to be found...

But the phone, placed back into a pocket, behaved how