Robert sits, feeling
just a little confused. Mo, meanwhile, has perched himself on a
rock, a gentle smile licking at his mouth.
“I'm sure there's
something...” Robert says, trying to prompt his own memory by
speaking out loud. “Something important.” He looks at Mo. “Are
you sure you can't remember?”
The midget shakes his
head sadly, without ever dislodging his smile.
Robert is tapping his
forehead abstractly when Mo speaks again.
“Raven is almost in
position,” he says loudly.
“Beg your pardon?”
Robert asks, but the midget stays silent.
“Position,” Robert
says to himself, “Almost in position. That should mean something,
shouldn't it?” He looks around him desperately, trying to catch
sight of something to jog his memory, but he finds himself at a total
loss. “Why didn't I write myself a note?” he wails, “Then I'd
know what I should be doing.”
