So he trudged along. His knowledge of the city streets was perfunctory at best, but even he could discern that they were walking towards the Disciplinarium's hill. Even from a distance the sounds of music and festivities could be heard, and a light show of fireworks seemed to be underway as well.Hilderich mused despite himself:"Are we invited then?"Amonas smiled wryly and urged him forward with a gentle nudge, while Philo turned his head around and stabbed Hilderich with his eyes. His attempt at humor had gone unanswered.The more they approached the Disciplinarium, the more careful they were in their approach, triple checking alleyways, hunching over shadows, their feet as light as cat-feet, not a sound other than shallow breathing. Hilderich was trying his best to follow the two men who seemed at ease with such practices. If he indeed attracted unwanted notice and they were caught, there was nothing to support he was an unwanting accomplice to their endeavor. Even if he could, he. A few other companies pursued him, but some others worried about his sanity and judgment. He didn't need the money. Besides what he had been paid outright by Neurodyne, he still collected residuals on the patents he owned and licensed out.With no direction and what many people speculated was a broken heart, over the next year Holland Campbell did his best to fall off the face of the earth. He spent most days sitting in his penthouse. He never travelled. He never went out, not even to shop for groceries or clothes. His servant automatons did all the work for him.Inside he was dying.One morning, his doorbell rang. Holland just sat there seemingly oblivious to the world. The buzzer sounded repeatedly.It wasn't until his brain registered that someone was keying the override that he bothered to turn his head."What the fuck?" he muttered when the door opened.Miriam Garcia stood there, dressed in the same outfit she had on the first day he saw her. Her dark brown hair hung down past her.
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