"There is an interested gentleman. He was convicted of..."
"Just send me over, then."
It happened instantly.
She was standing on a wooden porch. It was a camp house, sitting alone on stilts above a very large, flat marsh. It wasn't in very good shape. Her host was behind her; she had to turn around to see him. He was a nondescript guy in his late twenties, white, red-haired and somewhat handsome. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. Caroline's first impression was that he was a redneck. "You don't look a hundred and six years old," he said with a grin.
"I didn't get much choice about getting younger," Caroline said. "God didn't quite know what he was doing when he fixed me up."
"Oh, I'm sure he could put you back any old age you want now."
"What would be the point?"
"Right. Just thought I'd mention it."
The conversation stalled. Caroline's skills in this area were decidedly rusty. "You live here?" she finally asked.
"For now. Till I get my bearings with this Cyberspace shit. It has a lot of happy memories."
"Oh?"
"Old P.I. didn't tell you?"
"I didn't ask. I wanted to talk to a person, not a computer."
"Oh, joy. I get to break the news. Come inside."
Nothing special. It was just a camp house.
"This is where I did it," the man said.
Caroline's heart beat faster.