The drained reservoir was a concrete bowl the size of a stadium, cracked across the floor, and the thing that had been Owen Castell sat in the center of it with its knees drawn up and its head down. It had been still for two days. The stillness had a quality to it now that Caleb had learned to read, a patience, a thing waiting to be approached.
They came in at the rim and stopped there, at the top of the access stairs, fifty meters of cracked concrete between them and the statue. Hiro set up to Caleb's left with the rifle on its bipod and his cheek on the stock and said nothing. Iris stood at Caleb's right shoulder with her back half to the bowl, watching the road behind them and the dark mouth of the overflow tunnel on the far wall, because the Meek was loose in tunnels somewhere south of here and a reservoir was the kind of place a tunnel led to.
