Eleanor's smile contained an element of sincerity, but Allen knew this sincerity was itself precisely calibrated.
Every one of her expressions was in service of the upcoming negotiation.
Just as every one of his answers was.
Outside the window, on the sea of the Great Library Plane, a giant, whale-like deep-sea creature slowly breached the surface. In the twilight, its phosphorescence traced a long arc before it crashed heavily back into the sea, sending up waves a hundred meters high.
The dull, colossal sound traveled three thousand meters up to the quiet office, like a distant tolling bell.
"Well then," Eleanor's finger tapped the desk lightly. "Shall we begin?"
Allen didn't immediately unroll the silver Scroll.
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping gently on the armrest. One, two, three.
The rhythm was unhurried, each tap spaced with near-perfect precision.
He was creating a small window to seize the initiative.
