My portable telecom’s just where I left it, on the bedside table, jacked into the LTG socket in the wall. I power it up and hit the keystroke sequence that’ll log me onto UCAS Online. While the machine’s making the connection and shaking hands with the UOL mainframes—somewhere in Virginia, I think, though of course it doesn’t matter—I pull off my boots and make fists with my toes in the ratty carpet. I set my H & K with its two spare clips within easy reach on the floor next to the bed. (Again, not that I’m expecting trouble, but there are some habits you just don’t want to let slide into disuse.) The telecom beeps, announcing it’s ready.