The accountant sat against the outer wall with his hands still loosely bound, watching the militia move past.
He had kept this cooperative posture from the moment he raised both hands in the storage room, not from conviction, Col judged, but because he was a man who understood which way things were going and had chosen accordingly.
Col crouched in front of him.
"The man responsible for the operation you were keeping books for," he said. "Where is he now."
The accountant looked at the avenue, then back at Col.
"I want it understood that I was an employee," he said.
"I understand it. Where is he."
"There is a building on the south street," the accountant said. "He's an independent merchant. The name on the door is Bron. He and Ald have known each other since before the roads ran properly through here."
He paused.
"Ald went there this morning when the first checkpoints went down."
Col stood. He looked at Ric. Ric looked back without expression.
"Move," Col said.
