In the morning, Wilson returned to work. Before Barbara left, she repeatedly reminded Joey to get plenty of rest. She acted like a little grown-up, playing the parent.
The telegraph machine in the room began clicking. Joey looked toward the sound, mildly surprised.
"Higher-dimensional magic really has brought technology to a standstill."
This ancient means of communication had only existed in films and television shows for Joey, and his curiosity grew.
The telegram contained a single line:
"I'll be waiting for you at 3 Levitt Street." It was signed "Rugger Giles."
He stared at the name in silence for a long time before finally deciding to go.
The old-fashioned European and American architecture made him feel as though he were in an exotic foreign land. Everything along the streets stirred his curiosity.
He hailed a carriage and admired the unusual mode of transport as he looked at the horned horses.
The two horses pulled a little box-shaped cabin. He opened the door and climbed in. There were only two seats, but the interior was spacious enough for someone to lie on their side.
In a sense, it was much like a self-driving car.
He looked around but found no driver. Some sort of magical control unit probably operated it.
The scenery outside flashed past. As he drew closer to his destination, an inexplicable tension suddenly arose.
A radio in the carriage played peaceful music. After they passed through a tunnel beneath a bridge, Joey's heart suddenly lurched, interrupting his enjoyment of the music.
At some point, night had fallen outside the window.
The sun had only just risen when he left that morning. Only two minutes had passed. This should have been impossible.
The radio crackled with piercing static, as though some magnetic field were interfering with it.
Joey pressed