My old boss was over smarting me. It was time to shine, if I was interested on being a cop. What were my alternatives, with my studies? Maybe I could become a protocol officer? That is, of the type that are checking if that family was applying the recycling protocol with his dead cow, or if the swimming pool of that big guy was indeed being paid as it should. Or the one dedicating his time to count the number of drinks consumed by a specific age range. Heavily boring stuff. Not my type. I could be a fireman, I think. There are always alarms, like when the main conduit to one of the small halls (what was his name?) was blocked by a collapse of the ceiling. That was fun to watch. I think it took them one week to come back to habitability levels. Nobody died them, as far as I remember. But I guess on a daily basis, for a fireman, you just go to break locked doors, save puppies, or things like that.
Anyway, it was time to think. Two bodies, found in completely different places, having only my boss as a common link. And the weirdness of both. What else? The social class, maybe. The net confirms it. Good. How about routes? Do they overlapped? Yes, but the overlapping factor didn’t go beyond the average one. How did that overlap with my route? Quite some, so her places were, at one point, my places. We were almost neighbours, after all. That was, anyway, not relevant, also, since we were both young and active. Same age, same interest, same class. For a moment, I did a mental indexing of the girls I was before today, afraid of finding one of them. Wait a minute. There it was. Green for them, red for me. A big circle, beyond the green statistical holographic mountain floating in the middle of my room. There was one area, for both girls, that was not overlapping with mine. The echelon hall.