he got it out and balanced it gingerly in his hand. now he had something else to work on! it was the weapon, of course. it had been used on him and then hidden behind the screen.

it was a good place to hide it. the screens never wore out or needed adjustment, and the cleaning robots that came out of the wall never cleaned there. the police should have found it, but they hadn't looked. he smiled bitterly. they weren't interested in solving crimes—merely in ameliorating the consequences.

though the police had failed, he hadn't. it could be traced back to the man who owned it, and that person would have information. he turned the retro gun over slowly; it was just a gun; there were countless others like it.

he finished dressing and dropped the gun in his pocket. he went outside and looked across the court. he hesitated and then walked over and knocked.

"occupied," said the door. "but the occupant is out. no definite time of return stated, but she will be back this evening. is there any message?"

"no message," he said. "i'll call back when she's home."

he hoped she wouldn't refuse to speak to him. she'd been away from retro-therapy longer than he and possibly had developed her own leads—very likely she was investigating some of them now. whatever she found would help him, and vice versa. the man who'd retroed her had done the same to him. they were approaching the problem from different angles. between the two of them, they should come up with the correct solution.

he walked away from the shelters and caught the belt to the center of town; the journey didn't take long. he stepped off, and wandered in the bright sunshine, not quite aimlessly. at length he found an electronic arms store, and went inside.