Harlem or Bronx? How he could be there if just recently he was on DeKalb Avenue in Brooklyn? And City Hall Station... no matter how it looks, there is only one City Hall in New York and it is in lower Manhattan!
Perhaps something is wrong with his mind? Hallucinations? Memory blackouts? He definitely didn't want to believe in anything like this, but, after all, these events should have an explanation! What time is it now, by the way? Perhaps almost daybreak already? Tony looked at his watch but could not see the hands in the darkness. The cellphone! It shows time, too! And, by the way, it's not a bad idea to make a call... only to what number? There was probably no lawful reason to call 911 and he did not remember any phone numbers to call a taxi.
Nevertheless, he reached into his pocket and, having dar ted a glance around–the last thing he wanted would be the arrival of any thugs interested in his cellphone, an expensive folding model–he pulled out the device. He unfolded the phone, woke it up by pressing a button, and looked at its right corner, where the time was displayed... 12:00 a.m.
What? It can't be. He had sat down in that devil's train nearly at 1 a.m. and now it's probably not less than two... Any way, definitely not midnight.
Had he, without noticing it, spent almost a day under ground?
No, that's impossible. How could he–without eating, drinking... or even going to a toilet? It is more logical to assume that the damned cellphone is buggy.
Then Logan's gaze moved to the left corner of the screen, where the signal level indicator should be. He expected to see there, at the best, the usual five bars, or in the worst case–none, although, of course, in New York there could be no open air place not covered by cellular communication. But what he was unprepared for was total emptiness. In the left top corner was missing not only signal bars, but even the icon of an aerial.
Well, of course. The popular Japanese thing had fritzed out. However, it was only Japanese in name, but where it was as sembled actually... that damned globalization! Luckily, the warranty had not expired yet...
Nevertheless he opened his contacts list and examined the names. Logan lived alone and had no close friends–so, perhaps, among people in his telephone directory, there was nobody who could be called in the middle of night without a very serious reas on. Not that he expected to receive any help, but simply wanted to check whether the phone actually worked or not. Probably to key in any random number and then to apologize for a mistake is better than to disturb those who know you...
So he made his call, taking for a basis the number of one of his colleagues and having changed a pair of digits. He heard no ring. Nothing at all. But Tony knew that it was not the silence of an inoperable phone. Simply the call was taken on the other end before the first ring. The call was taken, but no answer was given.
"Hello?" Tony said uncertainly. "Hello, Jim?"
It was the first name which came to his mind and he thought at the same moment how funny it would be if the un known call recipient was actually Jim.
However, whoever it was did not respond. There still were no sounds on the phone. But Tony nevertheless felt that someone was listening.
"Sorry," he said, "I mistook the number," and hung up.
All the same, most likely, it was a malfunction of the cell phone. Tony folded it and began to put into his pocket.
The phone rang.
In the deserted night street its melody seemed a siren roar to Logan, and he, having shuddered in fright, hastily pressed the green button with a receiver picture only to stop this noise.
"Hello?" he said in much lower voice.
Silence.
"Are you the one I just called? Excuse me, I've already said it was an mistake. I think my phone is malfunctioning."
Tony waited a little more, but, still receiving no response, said, "Good night," and disconnected. And then he looked at op tions to lower the phone's loudness.
But
Perhaps something is wrong with his mind? Hallucinations? Memory blackouts? He definitely didn't want to believe in anything like this, but, after all, these events should have an explanation! What time is it now, by the way? Perhaps almost daybreak already? Tony looked at his watch but could not see the hands in the darkness. The cellphone! It shows time, too! And, by the way, it's not a bad idea to make a call... only to what number? There was probably no lawful reason to call 911 and he did not remember any phone numbers to call a taxi.
Nevertheless, he reached into his pocket and, having dar ted a glance around–the last thing he wanted would be the arrival of any thugs interested in his cellphone, an expensive folding model–he pulled out the device. He unfolded the phone, woke it up by pressing a button, and looked at its right corner, where the time was displayed... 12:00 a.m.
What? It can't be. He had sat down in that devil's train nearly at 1 a.m. and now it's probably not less than two... Any way, definitely not midnight.
Had he, without noticing it, spent almost a day under ground?
No, that's impossible. How could he–without eating, drinking... or even going to a toilet? It is more logical to assume that the damned cellphone is buggy.
Then Logan's gaze moved to the left corner of the screen, where the signal level indicator should be. He expected to see there, at the best, the usual five bars, or in the worst case–none, although, of course, in New York there could be no open air place not covered by cellular communication. But what he was unprepared for was total emptiness. In the left top corner was missing not only signal bars, but even the icon of an aerial.
Well, of course. The popular Japanese thing had fritzed out. However, it was only Japanese in name, but where it was as sembled actually... that damned globalization! Luckily, the warranty had not expired yet...
Nevertheless he opened his contacts list and examined the names. Logan lived alone and had no close friends–so, perhaps, among people in his telephone directory, there was nobody who could be called in the middle of night without a very serious reas on. Not that he expected to receive any help, but simply wanted to check whether the phone actually worked or not. Probably to key in any random number and then to apologize for a mistake is better than to disturb those who know you...
So he made his call, taking for a basis the number of one of his colleagues and having changed a pair of digits. He heard no ring. Nothing at all. But Tony knew that it was not the silence of an inoperable phone. Simply the call was taken on the other end before the first ring. The call was taken, but no answer was given.
"Hello?" Tony said uncertainly. "Hello, Jim?"
It was the first name which came to his mind and he thought at the same moment how funny it would be if the un known call recipient was actually Jim.
However, whoever it was did not respond. There still were no sounds on the phone. But Tony nevertheless felt that someone was listening.
"Sorry," he said, "I mistook the number," and hung up.
All the same, most likely, it was a malfunction of the cell phone. Tony folded it and began to put into his pocket.
The phone rang.
In the deserted night street its melody seemed a siren roar to Logan, and he, having shuddered in fright, hastily pressed the green button with a receiver picture only to stop this noise.
"Hello?" he said in much lower voice.
Silence.
"Are you the one I just called? Excuse me, I've already said it was an mistake. I think my phone is malfunctioning."
Tony waited a little more, but, still receiving no response, said, "Good night," and disconnected. And then he looked at op tions to lower the phone's loudness.
But
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