Sami pointed to the gap in the school wall.
"Go out that way and follow the road the cars take."
Hamid caught his arm as he started to leave and made him sit back on the stool. The old man took a copper bowl from the bottom of his medicine chest, pulled out the cloth lining it, and poured in clean water.
The man who had been supporting his injured leg looked at the bowl, then toward the door.
"Should I get someone to bring the car?"
"Yes, but I need to get the directions straight first."
Hamid left the children with him, covered the mouth of the bowl with his palm, and closed his eyes.
The water's surface pressed against his palm.
Chen Mo was studying his fingers on a little folding stool.
Batman had just used these things as bargaining chips, sounding thoroughly practiced. Chen Mo looked down and counted his own, then looked up at Bruce's.
Ten each.
There was quite a price difference.
So many zeroes.
Damn rich people!
A call suddenly sounded right against his consciousness.
Chen Mo pressed his earpiece. On the shared channel, Peter was still typing, while Batman's end was temporarily muted.
System?
Was he splitting into personalities again??
He knew Gotham's feng shui could bite, but he hadn't known it could bite across the Pacific Ocean!
Oh, oh, good. That wasn't it.
It was Hamid.
The old man at the school.
The words he spoke were unfamiliar, but their meaning came through with his voice. A child, last night, the ferry crossing, and a bomb he had taken with him.
Chen Mo lowered his hand from his earpiece.
Wow. Your clinic offers this service too, old man?
His soul had already traveled between worlds, so Chen Mo was quick to