"We better get you dressed," said Viella. She took him by the hand and led him to a small booth in the clothing department, which was not far from the front door. She coxed him into the small room and told him to stand there. It was a typical clothing booth found in the fabric houses in the four large cities of Ar. It correctly sized the individual by the use of light touch laser beams. These measurements were then fed into a computer, which correlated all the data including the preferred style. The feed out impulse located the desired clothing and a few minutes later the garment was lying in a slot next to the booth.
After retrieving the tight fitting body suit she helped him into it, stood back and reviewed the product. It was good. Yes, very good.
She looked into his vacant eyes and sighed. "You sure you don't want to say anything?" she asked.
Nothing.
"Well then," she continued. "It's time to plan our escape. I say 'our escape' because I can't leave you behind after what you have done for me, . . . can I?"
Nothing.
"Somehow I didn't think you would object." She walked to a display counter and sat down. She contemplated their situation. At the moment things didn't look too grim. The plan was simple. They would spend the night in the restrooms, and in the morning when the store opened they would mingle in with the customers, and then make their way back to her apartment.
They would have to hide the scent and the broken blade somewhere in the store. Hopefully they would be gone by the time the scent was discovered.
She considered all the possibilities. Yes, she thought, this can work.
She took Em by the hand and was about to lead him in search of the restrooms when there came a loud clanging noise from the front of the store. The razor sharp blade rang as it hit the floor.
Fool that she was! She should have known patrollers would be dispatched to seek out the immobilized scent.
These thoughts flashed briefly through her mind before she whirled around to see the two patrollers standing in the doorway. They stood with arms elevated, pointing their phasors. They hadn't yet spotted their victims, but it wouldn't be long.
*
*
"Eolia Masteet?" asked the man as he turned and recognized the Aeolian Master. There was a look of wonder on his face. "How is it I can see a dead man who has come to life? Is that really you?"
The Aeolian Master started to disappear.
"Wait!" yelled the man. "It's urgent that I talk to you . . . . Did you find it? It’s imperative. We must have it!"