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revealed a series of electric eye-beams spaced less than an inch
apart across the frame, a defense against burglars . . . and worse.
These he maneuvered around deftly.
The parlor door was a bit trickier. Landing, he decided he
would squeeze through as a hornet instead of going smaller. It
was a rather tight pinch, made all the more difficult because
he was forced to concentrate constantly on coordinating all six
limbs. Unless he kept his mind fixed on the task, there was a
tendency to use only the first and third legs on each side, like a
quadruped.
Akhh, a splinter! Freezing in mid-crawl, Adrian slowly bent
his first and second knees on each leg, lowering his body toward
the ground till he felt he would dislocate his limbs. Moving
forward again, stretching out each leg almost flat, he allowed
the sword-like piece of chipped wood to pass over him without
damaging his unprotected wings.
Finally, Adrian emerged onto the sea blue carpet of the
lighted hallway. After stretching all his limbs, plus wings, he
lifted himself into the air and set off down the hall at a fine clip.
Let’s hope those maps I memorized were right, he thought.
The anonymous Asian spy seemed sure they were. Rubbing his
mandibles in the insect equivalent of humming, he began to
tick off the landmarks. Adrian always felt more relaxed more at
home in the world when he was on a job. The pre-work anxieties
just faded into the background. He neither hated, nor loved his
chosen career, but it did content him.
Left at the portrait of Lincoln, right at Martin van Buren,
right again at the picture of Harriet Lane, left at. . .
MAID! Only his enhanced peripheral vision and years of
hard-earned experience saved his life as a flat blue object which
looked to be the size of a bus and moving at near-escape veloc-
ity rushed through the air where his fragile form had hovered a
moment before. These White House maids had much quicker
reflexes then he would have thought. When he had been caught

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