"Bravo," the man said, "well done." He was not so frightening in the light as he had been in the vision. Babel estimated he was a bit above average height, but he had an imposing presence his simulacrum lacked. He wore a corporate suit in a popular style, the dark motif broken only by touches of color in his tie and the handkerchief folded in his breast pocket as dictated by corporate fashion. His dark hair was short and touched with a bit of silver. His features were smooth, refined, and chiseled, accented by his neatly trimmed mustache. Babel didn’t think he could be called a handsome man—the nose was a bit too hawkish and the chin a touch too pronounced—but the intensity of his gaze and his bearing made it clear that this was a powerful man who was used to being listened to and obeyed.