Otto sniffed and looked over my shoulder, visualising once again what he had been through. Of course, this was back when I was an emergency contractor for Shell. The rig swayed below. Only emergency lights. The madness of what I was doing had to be parked if I were to get through it. I came back to find the city had changed in ways I couldn’t quite fathom. All these strange formations, breakages. There’s a rift through central London which has been covered with planks of wood. I headed over to the Tav licking my lips “Well, well, well. Look who it isn’t.” I clapped my card against the reader, enjoyed the sense of relief when the four green lights lit up. When I sat down, Otto had busied himself with rummaging in his bag and I was mildly put out to find he wasn’t sitting alert, waiting for my return. Sense of being a low priority in his scheme of things which didn’t engender much goodwill.