It moves in mysterious ways its wonders to perform, such as they are, and gets on everyone’s tits big-time. Somehow he or she or it had become unstuck in time, and apparently now saw Past, Present, and Future as simply different directions to look in, and now it seemed to feel a duty to apprise certain people of upcoming significant events. In the most obscure, meaningless, and upsetting ways possible. People only put up with the B9 Presence because, well . . . any edge is better than none. The shimmering, almost human shape bobbed and sparkled before me, its voice a rasping whisper.

“What is the one experience left, for the man who has everything? Why, losing it all, of course. Beware the Ides of the March Hare. The Past is never over; it lies in wait, to ambush us. And even the longest night must someday give way to the dawn . . .”

It was gone before I could come up with an appropriate response, so I shrugged, and continued on.

* * *

My office was located on the third floor of a tall, ultramodern high-tech building: all gleaming steel and one-way mirrored windows, turning a cold blank face to the rest of the world. The number of floors in the building tended to vary, depending on how successful the various businesses inside were, on any given occasion, and how much sub-letting was going on. Certainly my building was every bit as tall as those surrounding it. Just looking up at the top of the thing gave me a kind of reverse vertigo, as though my feet might suddenly lose their grip on the pavement, leaving me to fly up into the night sky, flailing helplessly. I pulled my gaze away with an effort, shook my head firmly a few times, and strode up to the closed front door.

The only entrance to the building was a large and very solid-looking door of old oak, polished and waxed to within an inch of its life and looking distinctly out of place in such a modern setting. But the best security measures are always based in magic as much as science, and for the best results, it’s always best to go old school.