Free Continuance by Kerry Carmichael

finger
across the parking lot. Then he turned and walked toward the door to the bistro.
    Jason felt the blood drain from
his face. Frantically, he reached into his front pocket and grabbed his AP,
searching the area for some place to hide it. The counter where he sat offered
no cover, and nothing else within reach offered any better prospects. Then he
saw it – a six-inch ledge along the ceiling, several feet overhead. Filled with
oriental-style decorations and nick-nacks, it ran the length of the window-side
bar. Jason glanced around the room. The server had disappeared into the
kitchen, and the other two patrons seemed to be paying no attention.
    The spider reached the door,
extending a hand to pull it open.
    Jason concentrated ,
focusing on the ledge, its angle in relation to his body, the distance. He felt
the weight of the AP in his hand, its size and shape. The ledge. The AP. In his
mind, he saw a line connecting them, that might connect them if he
tossed the AP just….so.
    As the front door swung open
Jason flicked his wrist, releasing the AP along the trajectory he’d seen in his
mind. As soon as he let go, he snapped his head down to look out the front
window without waiting for the outcome. The door closed behind the spider with
a thump. At the same instant, Jason caught a fainter noise as his AP slid, more
than landed, onto the ledge above.
    Keeping his gaze toward the
police cars in the parking lot, Jason watched from the corner of his eye as the
spider paused inside the door. His eyes swept an arc in a slow pan of the
dining room. They came to rest on Jason, causing his breath to quicken. The man
strolled toward his table, but stopped a discreet distance away.
    He was compact, on the burly side
with a close-cropped beard, and he carried himself with a kind of coiled intensity.
Jason had expected him to ask questions or even try to arrest him, but the
spider just stood staring out the window. With the sudden coolness outside, a
veneer of fog had formed on the glass.
    He’s wondering
if I’ll bolt.
    “Guess we’re making quite a scene
next door.” The spider spoke the words slowly, sounding like sandpaper dragged
over granite. “Hope we’re not bothering you over here.”
    “No, not at all. Listen, I didn’t
think this place was off limits, too? If it is, I’ll be out of your way.”
     “No, you’re not in the way,” the
agent said. “The guys have it under control over there, so I thought I’d get in
out of the wet. Can’t really use these things in the rain anyway.” He gave
Jason a commiserating smile as he held up his wet smartglasses.
     “Too bad,” Jason laughed. “I was
almost hoping you’d tell me to leave. I had no idea what they served for
breakfast in here.” He gestured at the gelatinous concoction in front of him.
“I usually get mine next door. What’s all the commotion about?”
    “Photonics sweep. Stolen
bioprints – some SLIDe data. Nothing to worry about, really.” The spider pulled
a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit. Taking his time, he dried
the lenses of his smartglasses before putting them on again. Inside the dim
restaurant, the lenses had depolarized, offering Jason a clear view of the predatory
eyes behind. Unnerving in their intensity, those eyes inspected him from head
to toe. Not the natural, appraising glance of one guy sizing up another.
Instead, the spider kept his eyes straight ahead, using his neck to pan down in
a slow, deliberate motion.
    A photonics sweep . He’s
scanning me. Please don’t let him look up. Please…
    Jason’s insides churned. He
wanted to run. He wanted to lunge at the man and have it over with. Instead, he
forced words from his mouth, tongue feeling wooden, amazed his voice didn’t
sound the same. “So, did you catch whoever took them? The bioprints?”
    “Yeah, we got him. One of them.
But he may have had a partner. You see anyone suspicious come through here?”
    “No, not really.” Jason tried to
look like