Godbolt did not think so.He examined the little man intently. There was precious little to go onhere. He was evasive about his origins and spoke little about magicexcept for his repeated warnings to leave it alone. His clothessuggested a near eastern origin but research would be needed to trace itfurther. This was definitely going to take time.The little man sighed. Things were falling depressingly into place.The professor had the look of someone who had come to a conclusion."No," Dr. Godbolt said to his own internal debate. "The only logicalresponse is to use the resources at hand to maximum effect. To dootherwise would be foolish." The operative word being 'foolish'," the little man muttered."Quiet, you," the professor snapped back. He was not used to beingdisrespected and the little man's mutterings were proving to bedistracting just when he needed to concentrate most."I wish..." Dr. Godbolt started to say."Oh brother, here we go again," the little man said sadly shaking. Even though it was the middle of January, he was wearing a tank top, basketball shorts and flip flops at seven o'clock at night. While it had been hard to leave their friends in the previous city behind, he and his wife hoped this was going to be a good change for them. Unfortunately, despite all of the positives, one of the things they soon found out was that, unlike their previous home, there was much less diversity and they were quickly learning what it was like to live in the South as a white couple."Took you long enough."Craig turned toward the deep voice with its thick drawl and saw his neighbor, Tyrone, leaning against his lifted full-sized pickup truck smoking."Had to wait for Janisha." He held up the trash bags and heard his neighbor snort.Tyrone tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath a boot then fell into step next to Craig as they walked toward the dumpster. At six feet four inches tall compared to Craig's five feet seven inches, he looked down at the.
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