"She doesn't lack nerve. And what are you going to do with it? What is this purpose of yours?"
"Grumman? Yes, I'll tell you something about him," said the Director. "He was an Englishman, in spite of his name. I rememberâ€”"
"It's a matter of public record, actually. Look, why don't you come into the office andâ€”"
"Did you say Grumman?" said the man sitting just along the bar, an elderly man in seal hunter's rig, whose lemming daemon looked out solemnly from his pocket. "He was a Tartar all right. I was there when he joined that tribe. I saw him having his skull drilled. He had another name, tooâ€”a Tartar name; I'll think of it in a minute."
He didn't finish, because another bullet found him. This time it smashed into his left leg, and before he could even blink, a third one clipped his head again, like a red-hot poker laid along his skull.
Hester crept up close to his left shoulder.
Chapter 12 Screen Language