"Well," the woman had replied doubtfully, "We'll be at the airport Hilton, Suite 5005. Only family and friends you understand." "I'll be there," the mystery guest had said.

As he drove to the airport, the mystery guest was thinking about brush fires and how implanted transmitters could really be a good idea if they were licensed properly for medical purposes. He stuck the handicapped permit on the dashboard and headed for the hotel lobby. The doorman smiled at him tentatively.

"I'm here for the intervention," the mystery guest said. After the scene at the film premiere with the catatonic projectionist the mystery guest knew enough not to be too self-assertive. When there wasn't any call down from upstairs, he went back to his car to wait. From the corner of his eye he could see a figure watching him from a window on the fifth floor of the hotel.