Cypher Page #2

course; but if it's real sailing you want,

I recommend the Sunda Islands in the Banda

Sea. I was there on a trip last spring.

- Your cigarettes, sir.

- Thank you very much.

Hmm, Cohibas, my

favourite brand. Thank you.

- Oh, I'm sorry.

- Thank you.

Would you excuse me?

Good evening, sir. What'll it be?

Give me a scotch. Single

malt, on the rocks.

You got it.

Haven't we seen each other before?

You'll have to come up with

something more original than that.

I'm here for the convention.

That's fascinating.

- You're in marketing, right?

- Uh-uh. Sales.

- Is there a difference?

- What about you?

I do health inspections

of hotel restaurants.

- That sounds interesting.

- No, it doesn't.

- Do you have an answer for everything?

- Yes.

Rita Foster.

Jack Thursby.

So what do you do besides

travel to dull cities

and talk to women in hotel bars?

- I- - uh- play golf.

- Are you any good?

- No.

- Honesty. I like that.

What else do you like?

No commitments. No bullshit.

- And no rings.

- No rings?

You might want to take yours off?

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'll leave you alone now.

Your transmission came

through, Mr. Thursby.

The signal was clear.

I can do something else on my next trip.

I think I'm ready to

handle a bigger assignment.

We'll be sending you

to Omaha next Wednesday.

Omaha?

You'll perform the same job

that you did in Buffalo.

Omaha? Why can't they

find someone in Omaha?

Why do they need to fly you all the

way out there? It doesn't make sense.

Morgan.

Morgan, are you listening to me?

Since when did you ever care about golf?

You're not going on this

trip, Morgan. I'm sorry.

What do you mean, I'm not going?

My father wants you to

come to his office tomorrow.

Getting a position with his company

is more important than

a silly freelance job.

I said I'd go.

You're not going,

Morgan. End of discussion.

You're staying here. I'll call

my father tonight and we'll-

Tell your father to go f*** himself.

What did you just say?

Say you're sorry, Morgan!

Morgan!

If you don't apologize, I

want you out of this house.

Morgan! Are you listening to me?

What in God's name has gotten into you.

Since when did you

start smoking? Morgan!

Morgan, what's going on? I

think I deserve an explanation.

Your scotch, Mr. Thursby.

Turn around slowly, please.

What is your transmission device?

I thought you were a health inspector.

I'll ask you again:

what is your transmission device?

The pen, in my jacket pocket.

Do not turn the pen on.

What?

When you're inside the convention

room, keep the pen turn off.

Do not send the

transmission to Digicorp.

If you tell Digicorp you

met me, they'll kill you.

Take two every six hours,

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