Number Seven

After the voice vanished from the dead headset, the only sound in the office was water dripping from the air conditioner. Lin Wan cut the main breaker. The lights died. The headset crackled once more. “Did you hear it?” Cheng Ye asked. “Number Seven. Stable window. Welcome to the game,” she recited. “So it wasn't a hallucination.” For once, Cheng wished she thought he was insane. The gray-suited visitor was already gone. The register named him Zhou Mi, systems manager at Clearstar Technology. Clearstar had donated the league's new multilingual broadcast system, and his inspection papers were immaculate. “What does ten seconds mean?” Lin asked.