Midnight Sun (105 page)

“It's a
puzzle,
”
Andy
said.
“
First
,
take
a
look
at
these
documents.
”
He pointed
at
the
top
pages.
“
The
font
at
the
top
of
the
page
is
black
and
talks
about
some
kind
of
spam
advertisement
for
fake
Viagra.
But
if
you
follow
the
text
further
,
what
do
you
see?
”

“
What
do
you
mean
,
follow
the
text
? It
ends.
”

“
Look
closer
. It
doesn
’
t
end.
”

“
What
are
you
talking
about?
”

Andy
lifted
the
page
and
held
it
higher
in
the
light.
Hogan
could
make
out
a
very
faint,
bright
yellow
glare
against
the
white
of
the
paper.

“
You
see
that?
There
’s
a
whole
paragraph
at
the
bottom
of
the
page
in
a
pale
yellow
font
on
a
white
background.
Nearly
invisible
on
the
screen,
but
…”
He
picked
up
the
other
sheets
of
paper.
“
I
was
going
to
delete
it
myself
,
but
I
accidentally
clicked the
print
icon
and
sent
it
to
my
black
-
and
-
white
laser
printer.
And
this
is
what
I
got.
”

The
page
he
handed
Hogan
contained
two
additional
paragraphs
of
text
in
a
light
gray
font.
It
was
faint
,
but
readable.
Andy
handed
him
another
page
with
the
same
text
in
dark
black
font.

“
When
I
noticed
the
extra
text
,
I
changed
the
font
to
all
black
and
reprinted
it
again.
Read
what
it
says.
”

Hogan
read
the
text.

So
for
your
arrogance
I
am
broken
at
last,
I
who
had
lived
unconscious,
who
was
almost
forgot;
if
you
had
let
me
wait
I
had
grown
from
listlessness
into
peace,
if
you
had
let
me
rest
with
the
dead,
I
had
forgot
you
and
the
past.
M
y
hell
is
no
worse
than
yours
though
you
pass
among
the
flowers
and
speak
with
the
spirits
above
earth.
before
I
am
lost,
hell
must
open
like
a
red
rose
for
the
dead
to
pass.

“
What
the
hell
is
that
talking
about?
” Hogan grunted, his face twisting in consternation.

“
That,
sir,
is
the
million
-
dollar
question,
”
Andy
replied.
“
I
did
some
research
and
found
the
whole
poem
,
as
well
as
a
bio
of
the
author
and
what
she
was
originally
writing
about.
What
we
see
is
a
short
portion,
or
rather
,
two
short
portions
combined,
of
a
long
poem
written
by
a
lady
known
only
as
H.D.,
back
about
1915
or
so.
It
’
s
a
pretty
depressing
poem.
According
to
her
biography
,
the
author
was
struggling
with
bisexuality
and
couldn
’
t
decide
if
she
loved
her
girlfriend
or
her
boyfriend
more
when she was surprised to discover
those
two
were
having
an
affair
with
each
other
behind
her
back.
Screwed
-
up
stuff
,
if
you
ask
me.
”