Koldin realized the question had contained information.
 
Defort became very interested in the display case nearest the wall.

Koldin said, “I saw him on zhe ground.”

The policeman studied him for one second longer than necessary.

“He was conscious when they collected him.”

“Good.”

“He alleges he was assaulted.”

Koldin said nothing.

The air conditioner hummed.

The officer waited. Koldin waited better.

Finally the officer looked back toward the typewriter.

“No complainant has presented himself regarding that matter.”

“Ah.”

Defort coughed.

The policeman resumed typing.

“If you witnessed the extortion, you may leave a statement.”

Koldin looked toward the row of chairs, then toward the vent.

“Do we have to?”

“No.”

“Can we sit for a minute?”

The officer looked up again.

“You are already inside.”

Koldin accepted this as permission.

He and Defort went to the chairs beneath the window.

Defort lowered himself into one and stretched his legs.

“Best stop of the patrol.”

Koldin removed his hat.

“Shut up.”

“Air conditioning.”

“I know.”

“No forms.”

“Good.”

“No walking.”

“Defort.”

“What?”

Koldin leaned back beneath the vent.

“Nozhing.”

They remained there.

Outside, evening continued without them.

The market would be closing now. The blind yinglet and his human companion would be gathering the repaired lamps and old tools from their mat. Perhaps the revolver had already disappeared into whatever belongings they possessed. The dog would be following by its cord.

Somewhere else in the building, the petty criminal Koldin had knocked down was presumably becoming a police problem.

This seemed equitable enough.

The officer typed. A telephone rang. Someone passed through a corridor carrying a stack of folders.

Defort stared again at the old police memorabilia, though from his chair this time.

Koldin shut his eyes for several seconds.

Not sleep. Just darkness.

The cool air moved over his face.

His foot still hurt faintly. His stomach contained the remains of kelp noodles and fried shellfish. The coffee from breakfast had ceased to matter hours ago. One empty bottle rested in his haversack. His uniform smelled like the town.

Nothing terrible had happened.

A theft. An argument over water. A broken crane cable. A man extorting the homeless. A fence disturbed by animals.

Every incident small enough to fit inside a form or disappear without one.

This was peace, but not the absence of disorder.

The successful prevention of disorder from becoming something larger.

Defort spoke without looking over.

“You think Obs’rt will care if we're late?”

Koldin opened his eyes.

“We're not late.”

“We could be.”

“We're not.”

“We could stay ten more minutes.”

Koldin looked at the clock.

Then at the vent.

“Five.”

Defort smiled.

“Sweet.”

They sat beneath the cold air while Lenkerk continued outside. For five minutes, neither of them was responsible for it.

Koldin and Defort stayed in the police station longer than five minutes, but not much longer. Long enough that five became eight, then perhaps ten, neither of them mentioning the clock because to mention it would have transformed waiting into a decision.

The officer at the desk continued typing. The air conditioner continued doing what the rest of Lenkerk could not. Defort examined the same display case twice. Koldin sat beneath the vent until the coolness began to feel less luxurious than merely normal.

Eventually he stood.

Defort looked up.

“Time?”

“Yeah.”

“Shame.”

They went outside.