Journey Into the Flame by T. R. Williams

perhaps, but still valuable—or you wouldn’t be here. Four point seven.”
    It was apparent that the two women were engaged in more than just a bidding war. This was personal, Logan realized. He was dumbfounded by the whole thing. How can these books be worth this much money? Into the fives they went. Andrea owned the current bid, five point two million credits. It was Cynthia’s turn to respond.
    Suddenly, the image of Cynthia turned neon green, filling the room with a blinding light. People in the audience gasped, instinctively covering their eyes. Then there was an ear-splitting pop as the projection vanished in a flash. People were screaming, and Logan watched as those seated close to the exits ran out of the room.
    Ms. Crawley jumped from her seat. “George! We have an issue here! Please check the HoloPad. Ms. Brown has disappeared. Quickly, please!”
    The technician ran over to the HoloPad and began checking the wires and testing the device’s buttons.
    “Please, everyone, it seems we have experienced some kind of technical problem,” Ms. Crawley announced. “Please be patient while we attend to the matter.”
    The people in the audience slowly regained their composure, speaking to one another and laughing nervously. Those who had panicked and fled returned to the auction hall with sheepish grins on their faces. But the image of Cynthia Brown could not be restored.
    Ms. Crawley took out her PCD. Logan assumed she was calling Cynthia on the device, but she didn’t seem to be able to reach her that way,either. Logan turned next to the image of Andrea, waiting patiently. He marveled at her imperturbable demeanor. George, the technician, insisted that everything was in working order. He didn’t know why he couldn’t reconnect with Cynthia via the HoloPad. The other HoloPads were working and displaying their images, he said. After another unsuccessful attempt to contact Cynthia, Ms. Crawley signaled to the auctioneer to continue.
    “The current bid stands at five point two million credits,” he said. “Do I hear five point three?”
    It was as if the air had been let out of a balloon. The excitement and the suspense of the last few minutes of the auction had disappeared along with the image of Cynthia Brown. “Do I hear five point three?” he asked again.
    Still only silence. The entertainment was over. Everyone knew who would be the winning bidder.
    “Going once!” the auctioneer shouted. “Going twice! This is your final opportunity,” he warned, trying to coax one final bid, to no avail. “Sold to the beautiful lady joining us from afar for five point two million credits!” The auctioneer pounded his gavel for the last time that evening, and the room filled with the sound of applause.
    At a signal from Ms. Crawley, the side doors of the auction hall opened, and most of the audience began to exit. Some stayed behind to socialize and enjoy one more drink. Waiters started making their rounds again, and the single remaining HoloPad image, that of an elderly man, was laughing and talking animatedly to a group who had gathered around it.
    Logan walked over to the large windows overlooking the city. A moment later, Ms. Crawley joined him. “Well, dear, you have become a wealthy man tonight.”
    “It is a lot of money,” Logan affirmed, still trying to process everything that had happened. “More than I ever dreamed of.”
    “I need to wrap up a few details for the night. Grab some more champagne, celebrate, and I will return shortly.” Ms. Crawley walked away with the auctioneer.
    Logan did as she suggested and grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter. He searched for Sebastian to ask him if he thought the books had made the right choice, but he could not find him. He walked over to the technician, who was still fiddling with the broken HoloPad. “See anything wrong?” Logan asked.
    “Not one damn thing,” the technician answered. “This stupid device should be working. Hey, you got your