Felzian’s secretary announced him. Oscar hung his hat on a towering antler rack inside the door. Felzian was sitting behind his inlaid oak-and-cedar desk, looking as unhappy as politeness would allow. The Director wore bifocal glasses. The metal-and-glass prosthetic gave Felzian a touchingly twentieth-century look. Felzian was a short, slender man in his sixties. He might have been bald and fat in a crueler century.