Chit turned in his equipment and made his report. Well, that was over for
another month, thank God. Some of the others hung around to talk about the
patrol, but Chit just headed home. He didn't feel like anything except
washing out the dust.

After a quick shower, he went to his room, climbed over the piles of junk,
and threw himself down on the cushion.

What now? It was too early to go to sleep. There was that magic group, but he
hadn't really felt like playing the game since the Mana Crypt incident. 
That left the arcade... [shakeshead]

So he climbed back over the junk to the corridor and headed back to work.

Not, of course, that he had any intention of actually *working*. It was just
that the portable computers gave him a horrible headache (and a paw-ache, if he
tried typing on them for any length of time) and the only thing that could make
him more miserable at times like this... He stopped in the middle of the
corridor to yawn, while busy (or, at least, not-bored) traffic rushed past
around him.

Unfortunately, in the half hour that had passed only two messages had
accumulated on the newsgroup (there was only one newsgroup. Well, only one he
read, anymore. Unless he was *really* bored) both written by him. And the world
wide warren was as awful as ever.

"NYARGH! THIS SUCKS!"

But neither the empty office, the faintly-audible warren in the background, or
the universe in general took notice.

The black-clad charcoal-dusted ninja squirrel peering out from between the
gaps in the air duct vent, however, did.