False Alarm

A concentrated beam of glare hit the baseboard like a sniper's laser, snapping me straight out of patrol. I hit the deck, crept low along the floorboards, and flanked the source behind a stack of magazines. No ambush. Just a heavy glass tumbler catching the morning sun, bending rays straight across the room. Damn optics playing tricks on my sensors. I stepped up, rapped my knuckle against the thick glass, and watched the bright caustic patterns ripple harmlessly against the wall. If light is going to bounce around here, it better not disguise itself as a hostile targeting grid.