It was nothing more than a man in a suit walking up the steps. Certainly those on the streets watching the benign car with its dings and unremarkable appearance might recognize the man in the suit as a face from a flyer. Here or there in the gutter, fluttering upon a bulletin board, tacked up in taverns and inns.

Irrykin carried a box as equally benign as the car. Two feet by two feet, it rustled when moved as if filled with paper. He did not flick the little business card Cale had so dutifully brought to him....he didn't need to. Interdimensional they might be, but lawyers were lawyers, and it was always a unique benefit, to have a common enemy. He opened the door easily, box balanced in one arm, and walked into the juxtaposition of finery (the veneer of the classic over a slick technical and far more underbelly) that comprised the offices of Dewey, Cheetham, and Howe.



Ecthos - When Worlds Collide: Suit