Something was wrong. Though Neuman didn't surrender his grin he seemed to be caught off guard a minute. Immediately he catches himself with practice in interpersonality not giving up a hint of displeasure of the odd greeting he'd received from a possible colleague. "No, no one's hurt. I'm feeling rather pleased myself," this is your one chance Neuman, establish connection. "Dr. Gallagher is it? I was just interested, your doctorate, what is it in? I am a graduate from a rather high establishment myself and I am very curious what a man of your extremely qualified merit could be doing out here in the middle of nowhere."
Neuman was chilled, but far from cold. This very interaction was already filling his throat with ice. He could not shake the paranoia that this doctor was not what he appeared to be, neither his savior nor his compatriot. Each word felt the old business warmth that took years of training, filled with a charisma that could fool an emperor, but his suspicions made him chilled. The very air seemed to slow around him as if it were too cold to retreat to its hearth in the air ducts. Too late to for the air to escape the coming coldness of a new breeze. His Jaguar must be shivering, the keys still sitting on the hood from this morning. Out of season. Out of place. The Jaguar is falling out of repair.
