Sprite didn’t understand the terror in Scotty’s voice. They certainly weren’t friends, but last they met, the two shared a professional air. Not a brotherhood or even a bond, per se, but at least a mutual respect between fellow masters of the trade.

This was odd indeed.

And just as odd, Scotty’s manic need to know the time. Sprite hadn’t noticed his watch before; it was black, strapped to his wrist, and large. Scotty was hammering away at the display buttons. Where did Scotty have to be? Was he looking up an appointment?

And why was the watch so big?