<div class="floatleft">(https://46.media.tumblr.com/84400782eb9cadbbb1a45de7e5d4a923/tumblr_mx2kuiRV9E1sr1ki0o1_500.gif)</div><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>EDMUND BROCKMAN, MD | 34 | DOCTOR OF MEDICINE (PSYCHIATRY) </strong></span><hr/><br/><hr/><br/>Edmund leaned toward the stunning redhead and placed his hand gently, familiarly on her upper arm. He lowered his voice only slightly, knowing that the customs agent, at least, would still be able to hear.<br/><br/>"My dear, we're Americans. We saved these peoples' crumpets in the War. You can call them anything you wish."<br/><br/>He withdrew his hand and stooped to take up her suitcase. An offer of gallantry could hardly be refused, at least not without making things socially awkward, and she was unlikely to go anywhere without her luggage. With his own bag in his left hand he straightened and stood. The ship had docked slightly early. Perhaps there was time for a drink or two before Smith's nephew arrived. Whatever business the professor had was critical, no doubt, but getting to know this woman was<em>imperative</em>. Dr. Brockman began to stroll leisurely, keeping his eyes open for a place to seek a bit of refreshment with his new friend.<br/><br/>"And what may I call you, if I may ask? An alias will suffice, if need be."