"I will," Thorne promised. "Good-by."
"Thanks for calling."
Adams lifted off the cap. He opened his eyes and the sight of the room, commonplace and Earthly, with the sun streaming through the window, was almost a physical shock.
He sat limp in his chair, thinking, remembering.
The man had come at twilight, stepping out of the shadows onto the patio and he had sat down in the darkness and talked like any other man. Except the things he said were crazy.
When he returns, Sutton must be killed. I am your successor.
Crazy talk.
Unbelievable.
Impossible.
And, still, maybe I should have listened. Maybe I should have heard him out instead of flying off the handle.