The helicopters buzzed lazily overhead like fat flies in a warm May wind.
"There they go. Right on time," said William Karsten III. His hunting jacket shone bright red in the early morning sun as he moved out into the open to watch the planes.
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Putting his hands on the arms of the chair, the Warden made a valiant effort and managed, just barely, to remove his body from the comforting confines of the chair. "Well," he said, "I must be off. Have a lot of other hunters to see before the season opens." The two hunters rose and shook hands with him.
"Now, let's synchronize our watches before I leave," the officer said. He peered closely at his timepiece. "It's now 7:23:05 by my official clock. I got word on my plane radio just as I was landing that the criminals were dropped in the center of the Preserve at 7:03 exactly." He looked up. "The season opens at ten sharp. I'll see you at the Gate before then, of course." He turned around and bounced towards the plane.
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