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conclusions, so it was odd that he had the impression that her face was expressive. Her attention shifted to Ric. She didn’t hurry with him, either, but spent less on Carey. What did that mean? He braced as her gaze tracked toward him. Would she sense his secret? See the missing chunks of his life? They hadn’t been surgically removed. The jagged edges, the fragmenting of his experience, weren’t neatly patched over, though Delilah and the nanites had tried. He wanted to rub the back of his neck, but didn’t. It’s a giveaway. The words, the knowledge came from—
    She found him, splintering his thoughts in a way that hadn’t happened since the psychotic break, though this splintering wasn’t painful. Wynken, Blynken and Nod still moved in to sweep up the pieces. His physiological response increased exponentially. No way to gather that up. What did she see, think, know when she looked at him? Her bright, curious gaze was too far outside his experience. What he did know was that he felt more not like himself than he had since Delilah took him back from them six months—and nine years—ago.
    “A curious quartet,” she said, her voice pitched to be heard over the music still pulsing in the background like a movie soundtrack. Her attention flicked back to Fyn.
    Did she sense his alien factor? It was interesting that all of the Project Enterprise alien contact had been humanoid, though that didn’t eliminate the alien factor from the contact. They were still from other galaxies, other planets. Did Robert find Fyn alien because he knew he was alien or because he was alien?
    Her attention shifted again, going from the particular to the general, and the red mouth edged up in a half smile, her tone informative, not hostile. “We’re closed.”
    “Door wasn’t locked,” Fyn spoke with his usual lethal lack of expression—at least Robert assumed it was usual. It was the tone and expression he’d used since they met up at Area 51 two days ago.
    Don’t make assumptions.
    I’m working on it . It would reduce the periods of sometimes painful adjustment, which seem to be piling up, but was easier thought than done, if he was permitted the modified cliché. He was a scientist and scientists made assumptions based on observed data, but there was too much data in this place. It was as disconcerting as no data.
    She gave a shrug that could have meant anything. “Lanes won’t be ready until noon. Coffee isn’t ready either.”
    “We want to see the museum.” His calm tone surprised Robert, as it failed to reflect his inner turmoil.
    Her brows arched for a ten-count, then lowered into an almost scowl.
    “Eddie put you up to this.”
    Robert was unclear what she implied, but he knew the answer regardless. Eddie had no input into their presence here today. “No.”
    Ric stepped up next to him. “We really want to see the museum.” He looked around, like it would now pop up out of the floor.
    This time she stared at them for a twenty-count, then a smile broke across her face like a wave. “Cool.”
    “I take it,” Carey said, “you don’t get a lot of visitors to the museum?”
    “More like never,” she said, tone and expression cheerful.
    “Maybe if you had a sign outside,” Ric suggested.
    “Eddie said he’d put one up when I got one taker—oh!” She pulled out a cell phone and dialed it.
    Robert didn’t expect it to connect, but it did. Maybe they had special bars for Wyoming cell phones.
    “Ed. Listen to this.” She held out the phone, giving them an expectant look. When no one spoke, she added, “Tell him what you want.”
    Ric took point for them. “We want to see the museum?”
    She gave him a pleased smile and put the phone back to her ear. “That’s four, count ’em, four guests for the museum. I think you owe me a sign.” A pause, then she added, “No, I’m not going to take their picture. I’m going to take their money. I’ll take their picture in the museum. Proof positive.” She