boarding pass. “They flagged him four- forty at the desk,” she said, then to Danny, “Sir, you need to go with these officers.”
“What?” Danny said.
“We have some questions for you about your travel today, sir,” said one of the policemen, taking the boarding pass as his partner took Danny’s elbow. “Did you buy your ticket yourself?”
Danny’s hair was standing up on the back of his neck.
“Uh, yeah—”
“And did you buy it with your own money, or money someone gave you?”
That was when Danny knew it was over. “It’s not fair,” he said as they walked him away; “they said no one would notice!”
“Sir,” one of the cops said, “I have to tell you that you’re under arrest on suspicion of fraud and receiving stolen goods. Please listen while I tell you about your Miranda rights. Anything you say may be used against you—”
And they led Danny off toward one of those nondescript doors that every traveler sees in every airport. Danny had occasionally seen these before and wondered what was behind them. Now, though, one opened before him, and it occurred to Danny that whatever else might be behind this one, mint juleps—now or later—were not going to be on the list.
Later that afternoon, Delia Harrington found herself sitting in another of a series of handsomely decorated but windowless offices up in Omnitopia’s legal building. When the door opened one more time, she expected to see Jim Margoulies again, asking—politely enough—for one more amendment of the statement they were going to require of her before they let her leave in disgrace. But much to her surprise, Dev Logan walked in.
She had thought herself fairly far beyond surprise at this point, but this did surprise her. “Don’t get up,” Dev said, closing the door behind him and swinging around the table to sit down at the far side.
“I’d have thought I was about the last one you wanted to look at right now,” Delia said.
Dev sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I won’t pretend that the prospect fills me with joy,” he said, “but we need to have one last talk.”
Delia couldn’t imagine what this would be about, so she kept quiet.
“You have to understand,” Dev said, “that various people in this building and elsewhere in Omnitopia upper management, as you might expect, are urging me to get you in as much trouble as possible—career, legal, and otherwise. And my first impulse was to agree with them. But over the course of the day, things . . .” He rubbed his eyes. “Things have happened.”
“How is your share price doing?” Delia said, working hard to sound both neutral and not entirely crushed in spirit.
“Recovering nicely, thank you,” Dev said, giving her a look that was also oddly neutral. “Delia, do you believe in karma?”
She blinked at that. “Some days. Some days I think it may be just another kind of superstition. Other days . . . not so much.”
Dev let out a little breath of laughter. “Interesting. We’re both of the same mind on that.” He sat back in the chair. “So . . .”
He was silent for a moment, looking at the table, musing. “So,” Dev said again. “You’re going back to New York the day after tomorrow, with your story for Time. And with no stain on your character, as they say in English law.”
Delia stared at him.
“What has happened here,” Dev said, “will remain here. With this understanding: that after this, you work for us.”
“And not for Phil Sorensen,” Delia said softly.
“Oh, no! As well as for Phil Sorensen.” Dev produced a very small and wintry smile. “With the continual understanding that our silence about the illegalities we caught you in here could always be broken should your behavior warrant it.”
Delia thought about that for a moment. “I’m supposed to become sort of a double agent,” she said.
“That’s right,” Dev said. “Should Phil call for your services again as regards to Omnitopia—and why wouldn’t he, since we’re going to send you back to Time with such glowing reports, and to Phil with some harmless inside info that he genuinely can make use of—then you will remember whose side you’re really going to be on, in terms of information you acquire about Phil. For our part, we will let people at other magazines know that you’re one of our preferred feature writers, because of the work you’ve done on this assignment. You’ll have an excuse to be back here every now and then, which will please Phil and doubtless make