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He hurried to each desk, touching five mugs in all, ‘There’s half-full mugs on every desk. All of them warm or hot.’ ‘Your point?’ she flipped through a file folder. ‘Why did they leave in a hurry?’ ‘Maybe there was an evacuation?’ Kate suggested sarcastically, ‘Maybe the mayor ordered everyone out.’ Chip sighed and walked over to the light switches on the wall to his left. He flipped them up and down a few times, ‘No power.’ ‘No shit.’ ‘That seem a little strange to you?’ he pointed at the lamps, ‘How the fuck are they working?’ ‘Maybe there’s a back up circuit,’ Kate glared at him, ‘Or maybe they’re battery powered. You know, these cubicles have computers that probably contain a lot of vital records and shit. Wouldn’t you keep them on a back-up generator?’ ‘Whatever,’ Chip mumbled. ‘So where’s the back up power, you emasculating cow?’ After finding nothing of any interest at the desks, Kate walked to the receptionist desk and found a phone with a blinking message indicator. The. Their footwear had mostly fallen to pieces from the rain, walking, and the mud. Luckily the soil here was sand and gravel, so the constant rain didn't cause mud like it had in Ceylon. Wheeled vehicles would be mostly useless there, for much of the year.They passed carts frequently on the road here, as the traveling wasn't prohibitive in this area like it was in so many others during the rainy season. Vedeya wondered what these people did for a living, as the soil wouldn't produce gardens, and when she asked, she learned that it was saffron they grew, and the weed-like plant throve in these forbidding conditions. It actually didn't like all the water, but the dry season mostly made up for the overabundance, and the porous soil quickly drained.John thought of his old friend the Caravan master, and thought he could do well for himself on this southern route, picking up saffron, fine pottery, and sapphires in exchange for silk, woolen and felt goods, and blue dyes. He wondered how Wong.
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