Page 79 of Gryphon

“Last night I asked—”

“There’s no need to repeat yourself.” Then she covered her mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s quite all right. Have you given the matter any thought?”

“I have made no general conclusions regarding the three incidents in Sweden. I did make three specific conclusions, which were reported to the proper Swedish and NATO authorities.”

“NATO?”

“Yes. There was no need to report to the NTSB or FAA as we were in an assistance role, not the primary investigating authority. General Kurbanov said he was sent to assess any Article 5 violations of the North Atlantic Treaty.”

Meg was squatting along the edge of the front walkway and Miranda was keeping a close eye to see if Meg urinated or if she needed to unroll the first of an average two-point-three waste bags per day.

The man put his hand lightly on her arm and all she could do was stare at it.

A light touch used to freeze her mentally as well, but now it only stopped her physically—from doing anything. He was touching her, but not touching her. Being aware that all of her attention now lay trapped at the focal point of that contact didn’t allow her to break the deadlock that it created. There and not there. Feeling it. And not. Torn between brushing it aside or clamping the contact hard against her arm; neither proved possible. Only the contact that—

Meg growled sharply. Then barked at the man.

Miranda heard the bark, but couldn’t process why.

There was only the touch that wasn’t a touch until—

The man stumbled away and her world snapped back into place.

“What’s bothering her?”

Meg continued growling at him.

“You touched me.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Miranda shushed Meg, then rubbed at her arm. The touch, which wasn’t, still hovered on her nerve endings. And people wondered why she always avoided contact with other people. She also touched her headphones to assure herself they remained at the ready, though she wouldn’t put them on yet. Except for the man, the quiet of the morning remained quite complete.

“I’m autistic. I find light touch very…distracting. Meg knows this.”

“Well, I didn’t. Please accept my apologies.”

She nodded her acquiescence before petting Meg and returning to her walk. Meg didn’t move to pee again, instead she watched the man carefully between steps forward.

“Ms. Chase. Please. A moment.”

“How long is a moment? I’ve always wondered about that. My initial assumption that a moment ranged between greater than a second but less than a minute have been invalidated. Those requesting a moment typically use that as a premise to embark upon a far longer interruption than seems warranted by the word. I always find this curious. Should I be asking how long a moment do you wish for?”

“I’m concerned it will be a longer sort of moment.”

“Can’t it wait until after we complete our walk?” This time Meg squatted and made another patch of snow yellow. The terrier stepped forward and kicked fresh snow over it with her hind legs. She’d always been a very tidy dog.

“If I understand what you just said, I shouldn’t have delayed my moment from last night to this morning.”

“Is this about my autism or my specific conclusions?”

Meg resumed walking and sniffing more naturally as the man made no other unusual moves.

“It is about the man who claimed to be a NATO general investigating treaty violations of Article 5.”

This time it was Miranda who stopped. She turned to him and noted that the second to top button of his trench coat had not been pushed fully through the buttonhole. Instead, it was three-quarters exposed and one-quarter hidden. Did that make the button uncomfortable? It wouldn’t be the coat or the button manufacturer’s intended design.

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