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. He breathed through his mouth. A bow tie---clipped to the open collar--slanted off at an odd angle.
Xris removed a stack of files from a chair, kicked aside the clutter surrounding the desk, dragged the chair over, and placed it on the newly made bare spot on the floor.
Wiedermann never looked up.
Xris had just about figured this seeming abstraction was an affectation and was starting to grow irritated, when the blond-haired man lifted his gaze.
He stared at Xris with watery, very bright green eyes, said, "I've been expecting you."
The glow of the computer screens behind him cast an eerie halolike effect over the man. That and the darkened room made Xris think he'd accidentally broken in on some weird religious service.
Xris opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Wiedermann had shifted his attention to his desk. He made a sudden dive at a pile, snagged and pulled outwfrom about a quarter of the way down--a thick manila folder. The removal of the folder sent everything that had been stacked on top of it cascading to the floor. Xris leaned down to pick them up.
"Don't touch them," Wiedermann snapped.
He opened the file folder, flipped through the contents quickly. Satisfied, he returned the green-eyed gaze to Xris.
"A gatherer," Wiedermann said.
"I beg your pardon?" Xris blinked.
"I'm a gatherer. As in hunter/gatherer. Racial memory
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