The door to the interrogation room opened. There will be other nights, Anita, she said, in that low, almost purring voice of hers. Let me try that again. It wasn't perfect, Belle Morte wasn't really physically there, but it was close, and it was unnerving.
The ship passed out of the atmosphere, and Seligman stared in horror as the plates cracked andshattered outward. The scent of night was all I could smell as if everything else had vanished. Thus far I seemed to be doingokay. Just as dawn oozed up over the outline of the tattersthat had been New York, he finished his work on the ship.
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