I was led to a closed door.

The guard knocked.

“Enter!” I was directed, as the guard stood aside.

The man behind the desk motioned for me to sit in the chair opposite.

He slid a small glass with clear liquid and a dossier towards me.

“Please, drink, dear colleague.”

I raised my eyebrows.

He continued: “Given your background and expertise, I’d be interested to know what you think of this information. Naturally, it cannot leave this room, any of it, in *any* sense. Scan it for a few minutes, and give me your honest impressions.”

I tried to gage if he was serious.

His nod implied apparently so.

He gestured with his hand, a regal kind of beckoning, commence.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

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