Up until a little while ago, that is. About an hour back, close to 0130 in the middle of what looks like Seattle’s worst overnight rainstorm of the year, Blake came out of his private doss to find me propped up against the corridor wall, catching some zees. I guess I felt his presence—or maybe I heard the door. Anyway, I popped to my feet like I was on springs, expecting royal drek for sleeping on the job.