The man who followed the kick was lean and dark, with wavy brown hair combed meticulously into place. A bent nose dispelled any illusion of softness.
I was disappointed. If this was Zealley, it was not at all the way I had expected him to look. I had thought he would be more polished perhaps, more intelligent, with more of the outward signs of success.
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Zealley was not present when I received the disastrous news. At the end of what would normally be a twenty- or thirty-year cycle—the chemists were not able to estimate it any closer—the symbiotes evolved into tiny winged insects.
At that stage they acquired size and flying strength by devouring the tissues of their hosts.
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