Martin watched her beguiling figure hurriedly walk away. He sighed and stretched on the bench. He loved the cities. He missed them dearly, but mostly missed something else that resided in this city...
Martin decided to return to his old rooms. Because he had been gone for so long, they smelled stale and foreign. There was a small film of dust on everything. He swept his hand across the room and all the particles of dust gathered to one spot, then dropped into an incinerator. He strolled around the quarters, occasionally gazing out the windows.
Aja gently placed the tome on her desk. Her hands shook with excitement.
"Now," she whispered, "To translate."