?
Mick brought up his own profile and looked it over for a few minutes but without forming any conclusions. He was interrupted by the alerting of the secure telephone on his desk . It was his sister. They had a close relationship, and no matter how busy he was, Mick made the time to stay in touch with her.
“Hi Jocelyn!” he answered.
“Hey Alec,” she replied. “How was your trip?”
Jocelyn was happy to hear a couple of stories from his trip. She made him promise to call his niece Sam again soon. When he hung up a few minutes later, he placed one more call to a local motorcycle dealer friend to make a few important arrangements for the week after next.
Early the next week, Mick snaked his way through the JFK airport security line, heading to the gate for his flight to Seattle, Washington for yet another security conference, an invitation-only event for industry insiders and select security professionals. This was the first year he had been invited to speak, so Mick was excited.
In the past, Mick had found airport security lines vaguely erotic – all that undressing, dressing, removing of belts and shoes. These days, though, the full-body searches by security personnel were well beyond erotic…
As long as he could remember, Mick had always loved airports. Everyone there is on his or her way to somewhere exciting, or heading home to family and friends, bursting with stories and souvenirs. There are welcomes and reunions by the baggage claim. Husbands and wives picking each other up; the short kiss in the car perhaps just a prelude to a longer welcome home later in the evening after the children are asleep. Even the sometime tearful goodbyes at the security checkpoints didn't get Mick down – often it is a place where normal emotional reserve is abandoned in favor of a decent public display of affection. For some, perhaps it is a rare chance to find out how someone really feels about you, albeit as they are leaving... He had all kinds of happy memories of flights between London and New York, and flights to Melbourne to visit relatives. These days, he flew all around the globe for business. This morning, he was looking forward to the cool air of the Pacific Northwest – Seattle was one of his favorite cities.
Through security, he camped out at his gate, waiting for the connecting flight to Chicago to board and take off.
Regardless of the destination, Mick looked forward to flying – the longer the flight the better. Where else could he be guaranteed a certain number of hours of reading, thinking, and relaxing? He enjoyed the lack of interruptions, unless he sat next to a talker, but then he would pretend to speak very little English. He could usually finish a book on a short flight. On his longer transatlantic or transpacific flights, he would sometimes go through a couple of books. Despite their bulk and weight, Mick still preferred paper books over electronic books for his personal reading, although his friends thought he was slightly mad. He just liked the distinction it made between his professional reading, which was exclusively online and electronic, and his personal reading.
Of course these days he always got upgraded to first or business class, but he loved flying even back when he always flew coach. His noise-canceling headphones, used to listen to music, separated him from the world.
A few minutes later, as the plane accelerated down the runway, the overhead flat screen showed the groundspeed of the plane at 188 mph in archaic units. (For Mick, these units for speed were only slightly less out of date than his favorite – ‘furlongs per fortnight’.) Doing the mental math, Mick realized this was almost exactly the same as the top speed of his Shinkansen ride just ten days ago. Thinking of Nihon made Mick think of Kateryna, which made him smile to himself.
Over the next few hours, the farms of the northeast gave
Mick brought up his own profile and looked it over for a few minutes but without forming any conclusions. He was interrupted by the alerting of the secure telephone on his desk . It was his sister. They had a close relationship, and no matter how busy he was, Mick made the time to stay in touch with her.
“Hi Jocelyn!” he answered.
“Hey Alec,” she replied. “How was your trip?”
Jocelyn was happy to hear a couple of stories from his trip. She made him promise to call his niece Sam again soon. When he hung up a few minutes later, he placed one more call to a local motorcycle dealer friend to make a few important arrangements for the week after next.
Early the next week, Mick snaked his way through the JFK airport security line, heading to the gate for his flight to Seattle, Washington for yet another security conference, an invitation-only event for industry insiders and select security professionals. This was the first year he had been invited to speak, so Mick was excited.
In the past, Mick had found airport security lines vaguely erotic – all that undressing, dressing, removing of belts and shoes. These days, though, the full-body searches by security personnel were well beyond erotic…
As long as he could remember, Mick had always loved airports. Everyone there is on his or her way to somewhere exciting, or heading home to family and friends, bursting with stories and souvenirs. There are welcomes and reunions by the baggage claim. Husbands and wives picking each other up; the short kiss in the car perhaps just a prelude to a longer welcome home later in the evening after the children are asleep. Even the sometime tearful goodbyes at the security checkpoints didn't get Mick down – often it is a place where normal emotional reserve is abandoned in favor of a decent public display of affection. For some, perhaps it is a rare chance to find out how someone really feels about you, albeit as they are leaving... He had all kinds of happy memories of flights between London and New York, and flights to Melbourne to visit relatives. These days, he flew all around the globe for business. This morning, he was looking forward to the cool air of the Pacific Northwest – Seattle was one of his favorite cities.
Through security, he camped out at his gate, waiting for the connecting flight to Chicago to board and take off.
Regardless of the destination, Mick looked forward to flying – the longer the flight the better. Where else could he be guaranteed a certain number of hours of reading, thinking, and relaxing? He enjoyed the lack of interruptions, unless he sat next to a talker, but then he would pretend to speak very little English. He could usually finish a book on a short flight. On his longer transatlantic or transpacific flights, he would sometimes go through a couple of books. Despite their bulk and weight, Mick still preferred paper books over electronic books for his personal reading, although his friends thought he was slightly mad. He just liked the distinction it made between his professional reading, which was exclusively online and electronic, and his personal reading.
Of course these days he always got upgraded to first or business class, but he loved flying even back when he always flew coach. His noise-canceling headphones, used to listen to music, separated him from the world.
A few minutes later, as the plane accelerated down the runway, the overhead flat screen showed the groundspeed of the plane at 188 mph in archaic units. (For Mick, these units for speed were only slightly less out of date than his favorite – ‘furlongs per fortnight’.) Doing the mental math, Mick realized this was almost exactly the same as the top speed of his Shinkansen ride just ten days ago. Thinking of Nihon made Mick think of Kateryna, which made him smile to himself.
Over the next few hours, the farms of the northeast gave
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