Tonight's broadcast is brought to you by the company you depend upon for all of your greatest needs, Heart Life.

These stories are true dramatizations from our fair city's glorious history.

So listen and remember, heart life, all the life you'll ever need.

There are no postman in our fair city. If one policy wishes to contact another, she can

always log a message on the vid voice system, accessible to all policies at their company-issued

work terminals. Those without access to terminals, or those

with something to hide from the corporation, must deliver messages the old-fashioned way, in person.

Dr. Herbert West is not a policy of heart life, and deep in his residence on Q-deck, the company-issued

terminal is non-functional, having long been cannibalized

for parts. And the good doctor is, by his own admission, old-fashioned. Little surprised then that

someone should pay him a personal visit. Here in a domicile which otherwise contains only a lumpy shape covered with a sheet,

sits a lone piece of starch paper.

It has been folded in half with precision

and placed at the center of the eating space.

Who would leave me a note?

And they addressed it to Dr. West.

I don't recall introducing myself to anyone but Simon,

and he hardly seems the kind to write.

Salutation, Dr. West.

We have been pleased to hear that you will be making a brief visit to us here in Hartford.

Your presence is requested at my office.

Level 20, room one, at your earliest convenience.

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