The place was old, the furnishings dated. The clerk was a senior citizen with a head of grizzled curly hair and half-moon glasses perched on the end of his nose. He was not in any hurry to serve them.
Dmytro cleared his throat. “Ahem.”
The man glanced up. “Let me just finish this game.”
“Take your time.” Ajax smiled warmly at him.
Bartosz glanced toward Dmytro as if to sayDo you see this guy?Bartosz had a quick temper, and none of them were happyto be there. Still, there was no point in harassing someone who might possibly help them. Dmytro put a hand on Bartosz’s shoulder to defuse the situation.
“Whatcha playing?” Ajax asked.
“Sea Hero.” The old man didn’t glance up.
“That’s awesome.” Ajax’s soft brown curls bobbed. “You like it?”
“So far.”
“Game on.” Ajax’s happy expression changed his whole face. At Bartosz’s blank look, he said, “Sea Herois the world’s largest crowdsourced data set with the eventual goal of helping the scientific community understand dementia better.”
Bartosz still stared at him blankly.
Ajax glanced up as if there were a better answer written on the ceiling. “People from all over the world play the game, and scientists track their progress to learn from it.”
“That’s the idea,” their host said. “I haven’t played a video game sincePac-Man, but I saw what they were trying to do and why, so I hopped right on board to do my part.”
Bartosz lifted a brow. “We’ll need two rooms for the night, connecting, second floor, by the back stairs.”
The man wrapped things up with a sigh and put his tablet aside. “And I’m supposed to just have that setup available without any reservations?”
“Oh, I have plenty of reservations.” Bartosz glanced out toward the nearly empty parking lot. “Is everyone at the movies?”
“You got me.” The man grinned. “We don’t get folks stopping like we used to. Not since the chain place opened twenty-five miles up the coast. People will do anything if they think they’ll get a waffle out of it.”
“I like waffles,” said Ajax.
“Who doesn’t? My point is their room rates are seventy-five dollars more than ours, and I couldn’tlookat a seventy-five-dollar waffle, much less eat one.”
“Are you on duty here all night?” Dmytro wanted to nail down some sort of security plan. He wanted to meet the person who’d be keeping an eye on the front desk and find out whether they had an electronic surveillance system.
“Nah, I go home from midnight to six, but I have someone who comes in. They’ll be around if you need anything.”
Dmytro met Bartosz’s gaze. “We need our car fixed. It’s across the street. Can you give us the address here and the use of a landline so I can call for a tow?”
“Sure. You should get it off the road.” He handed over a motel postcard. “Pea soup tonight. You’re lucky you didn’t get hit from behind. A stranded car is dangerous as hell in that fog.”
Dmytro asked, “Is it usual for cell phones to lose signal here?”
“Usual? No. We have signal boosters, but sometimes when the fog gets this bad, they don’t work.” He glanced out the window.
“The fog,” said Dmytro, disbelief in his tone.
“He’s right.” Ajax bobbed his head. “Since cell phones use electromagnetic RF, thick fog and bad weather can cause propagation delay. The signal might bounce, get weak, or disappear altogether.”
Bartosz said, “I thought cell phones used microwaves that give you cancer.”
“Uh, no. The signals from your calls get sent to the tower where they get routed to a wire or fiber optic line.” Ajax’s long-fingered hands described a shape. They were soft with bitten-down nails and flew like birds when he talked. Dmytro found it… disarming. “Occasionally, if that underground system doesn’texist or it runs like a fat dachshund with a headache, they’ll use a microwave line-of-sight transmitter.”
“So, microwaves.” Bartosz took the word as a win. “That’s what I said.”
